Ways of Communication
by LadyOfWinds
Summary: 'Now he won't be able to hear the music ever again' After a hunt gone awry Dean is left deaf and depressed, unable to cope with his situation. When he almost kills himself in an attempt to prove himself as a hunter Sam takes a drastic decision and they move to a secluded, out of the way town. Hoping to prove to Dean that he is more than his ability to hunt Sam tries all he can.
1. The Loss of Sound

_This story was written for this year's SPN-J2 BigBang over on LiveJournal._

_I had the honour of working with the very talented Wataru_Kisugi,  
her art for this story can be viewed here._

_ . _

**WARNINGS:**Wincest, implied depression, angst

* * *

_It had seemed so simple, so easy. A routine job, just like hundreds of hunts before it. The blinking of an eye, that was all the time needed for everything to go to hell. Not enough time for Sam to react, to do something. One small, stupid inconsistency, that was all it took to change their lives forever._

oo00oo00oo

They were pretty familiar with the legends and tales of the banshee of the South-Dakota Badlands. With Bobby living so close to it, how could they not have. They never paid any attention to it, it was just that, a story. No disappearances or killings aside from a few lost hikers, but that's all they ever really were, lost. Nothing that ever pointed towards anything supernatural. Until now.

Several hikers and even an entire family had disappeared while visiting the Badlands National Park, always in the area of Watch Dog Buttle, where the hill the so called banshee resided stood. Too much of a coincidence for the boys, a belief that was only strengthened when over a dozen of visitors reported having heard long, shrill wailing. One or two even swore that they had seen a figure dressed in white, long hair whipping around its head in a non-existent breeze. No doubt about that. The rumoured banshee had taken up her title.

It was an easy enough hunt. The fact that she grabbed her victims near the hill she was rumoured to live on made figuring out which exact spot she was bound to very easy. They just so happened to have a book on Irish mythology, one that had a very large and thorough part on banshees. Sam had been drooling over the book ever since he had seen it at Bobby's and when he stumbled on it inside a very small and very old second-hand bookstore, very much hidden between all the other, newer and fancier stores in the street, he had been ecstatic for days.

It took them a few days to get their hands on all the materials they would need for the ritual, they weren't exactly of the kind they could just have with them wherever they went. They had to be fresh and several things had to be specifically bound to the location of the banshee.

Sam must have studied the ritual a thousand times. Sure, Dean realized he was probably exaggerating but whatever. He was certain Sam wouldn't need the book to do it but when they left for the park, he still took it with him.

The ride there was filled with idle chit-chat, just like any other hunt when they weren't rushing somewhere and Dean was breaking most traffic laws to get there. The sun was starting to get low in the sky. They had decided to go in a bit after closing time so they wouldn't have to deal with tourists or anyone working there. They'd have enough time to get most of the way towards the rock before it was completely dark.

At the local library Sam had printed out several maps of the park. Despite Dean's complaints he had then circled the hill with a red pen and had tried his best to find the quickest and evenest way through the uneven area. Dean just kept right on grumbling and complaining that they didn't need a map, that he'd be able to find the hill just fine by himself. Sam really wanted to see him try and get lost. He could already hear the 'I told you so.'

Dean parked the Impala on the edge of the park closest to the hill. Sam checked the duffle one last time, making sure he had everything before grabbing his shot gun just like Dean. They both loaded the guns with salt rounds before stuffing their jacket pockets with them as well. Banshees were a type of ghost so salt should keep her away should she come at them while they were still setting up. Sam would do the ritual and Dean would make sure she wouldn't lay a single, translucent finger on his brother.

Getting in wasn't much of a problem. As Sam took out his maps Dean took a look at his watch. If everything went according to plan, they might be able to go and grab a beer after all this was over.

They walked in silence most of the time. Sometimes Sam would point out some special plant or Dean would comment on how dull the park was. Why would people want to drive to specific places like these just to look at some plants and stones all day and walk till their feel fell off? Sam just shrugged, saying that it can be very relaxing.

Not long after it was getting too dark to really see where they were going so they got out the torches. Not much later Sam nudged Dean's shoulder to point out the hill to him. When they were about halfway up the hill they sat themselves down for a few minutes. When they reached the top they would need to be alert and work as quick as possible. Spirits had the tendency to show up right when they were about to be killed. He told Sam this, smiling. Sam smiled back just a little before telling him that, technically, you couldn't kill something that was already dead. Fine then, banished, or whatever spirits were when they lost their spiritness.

The sky was littered with stars of all intensities. Some glowed bright like lights in the distance or a whole swarm of fireflies, while other seemed to be nothing more than stardust that had been strewn al thorough the universe, barely giving off any light. For several moments the brothers were captivated by the glowing canvas above their heads. Sure, they often saw the stars at night, when they were driving or hunting, but here, out in the open, no outside source of light, no noise besides their own breathing to fill the air. It was something different, something magical neither of them had ever really thought about, had never appreciated enough. Sure, Sam knew all the constellations and could recognize then without a second though, he had done so often back at Stanford, with Jess, but this was different. Sitting here, next to his brother, on a hunt and watching the stars. It was something he'd never pictured himself doing after he left.

A soft autumn breeze danced on their faces and through their hair, making the long grass rustle and whisper. Realizing that they had sat there for far too long Sam and Dean got up and continued on their way. After that it didn't take them very long to reach the top. The breeze was stronger here but Sam managed to find a spot that was flat and lay just a little deeper than the rest, protecting it from the wind. Sam made quick work of emptying his duffle. With a nod to Dean he started laying down the foundations for the ritual.

With a place like this, open on all sides Dean couldn't exactly stay in one place to look out for the banshee. With his gun at the ready Dean started circling the top of the hill, each circle a little bigger than the previous one but not so big that he was out of shooting range from Sam. The slope of the hill was as far as he went, or at least, that's what he intended until he heard something rustling in the bushes. Turning around he took one good look at Sam, he had his shotgun lying next to him and there was no banshee is sight.

The slope was steep and dry, causing stones and dirt to glide down. More jumping and sliding than walking Dean got to a flatter part, the one with the bushes. He pushed the leaves and branches with his gun as he kept his eyes open for any sudden movement. A flash of white caught his attention but before he could even lift the gun it was gone again. Grinning he went into the direction he saw it disappear. If it was here that meant he could keep it occupied until Sam finished with the ritual. It was a pretty simple one, really, and he knew that Sam would be able to get it over with real quick once everything was set up. A simple incantation and burning of some herbs and other stuff mixed with the soil from the hill to free her spirit from this place. Piece of cake for them.

He saw a few more flashes of white but always did they disappear before he could shoot it. Too focussed on distracting and hopefully shooting the bitch Dean didn't notice she was leading him farther and farther away from Sam. He didn't notice the soft singing either. The banshee had chosen him as her next victim.

Dean's grin grew when he saw her standing still inside a circle of trees. The banshee's hair swirled around her almost as if she were underwater, dark tendrils reaching out. Her torn, white dress fluttered around her legs, contrasting with her copper skin. She smiled at him, placing one foot in front of the other.

The singing in Dean's head intensified as he stood there, frozen in place. He wanted nothing more than to lift his gun and shoot her but he found that he couldn't. Her lips didn't move as the song kept growing in intensity and it was then that Dean realize how stupid he had been. She had taken him as her next victim. _'please Sam, please, anytime now, come on, hurry, I'm about to die here Sammy, HURRY!' _He chanted inside his head, willing Sam to hurry up and finish the ritual already. She had now gotten so close that if she wanted she could have touched him but she didn't. She just kept on smiling. Her song had grown into a deafening crescendo when she suddenly pulled back, surprise followed by fury on her face.

Dean could see her form fraying at the edges, watched her fall apart like fog in a breeze. The song inside his head fell silent and just when he thought he was safe, that Sam had been on time and had saved him she let out a scream that caused the ground underneath Dean's feet to vibrate, the trees to shudder and the bushes to lose half their leaves. He tried to bring his hands up to cover his ears but he found himself still paralyzed. When she was finally gone Dean stumbled with the sudden feeling of being able to move again.

With the uneven and treacherous ground underneath his feet he tripped and knocked himself out against a protruding piece of rock. The slope of the hill caused him to collide with a few bushes and smaller trees before coming to a halt against a broader one. If the rock wouldn't have knocked him out the impact from his head against the tree would have surely done it.

Sam looked at the small fire with satisfaction before he heard the ear-splitting scream. Quickly covering his ears he tried to block out as much of the sound as possible before looking around. When the sound stopped Sam dropped his hands and picked up his shotgun. He knew Dean would make sure the banshee wouldn't sneak up on him but the fact that he didn't see him had him worried.

"Dean" He yelled. Nothing. He tried yelling his brother's name a few more times as he ran towards the side of the hill the sound had come from. Reaching the edge he saw skid marks in the light of his torch, just a few feet from where he was standing. He followed them down the slope until he reached the spot where Dean had first glimpsed the banshee.

Yelling Dean's name several more times the tried to track Dean's footprints. It wasn't all that easy; the loose dirt quickly covered the disturbed places, making it harder for Sam than it already would've been in the dark. Not impossible, just harder. He was determined to find his brother and if there was something Winchesters had to the extremes, it was determination.

It was purely by chance that Sam found the clearing the banshee had lured Dean to. When he spotted him, Sam almost tripped as well he was so eager to get to his brother. Falling to his knees next to him he dropped his torch and shotgun to the ground without care. The only thing he saw right now was his brother and the fact that he was hurt. "Dean." He whispered, reaching out to cup one cheek real quick before hovering his palm above his mouth and on his chest to ensure he was still alive. Satisfied with the result he grabbed his torch to take a better look at Dean's injuries. Blood was dripping from his ears, the back of his head was wet with blood and a cut just underneath his hairline was dripping into one of his eyes.

Sam pulled out one of his shirt sleeves from under his jacket and, pulling it over his hand, wiped the blood out of Dean's eye. Just as he was doing so Dean stirred. He quickly removed his hand as he watched Dean come by. Dean just stared at him for a few moments before squinting. "Sammy?"

Sam nodded before putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, it's me."

Dean frowned and blinked a few times before shaking his head. This caused him to close his eyes with a pained expression and bring a hand towards his head. It was a little clumsy but he managed. When he felt the wetness on his face he lowered his hand to look at the blood. "My head hurts, Sammy. Bad." His voice croaked and his words were a little slurred and seemed to come from somewhere far away.

"I know, Dean, I know. You hit your head. Twice I think."

This seemed to make Dean frown even more. "I can't hear you."

Sam looked at him for a few moments after that. He still had a buzzing going on in his ears from when the banshee let out her last wail. Judging from Dean's location he must have been quite a bit closer to her than he had been. As Sam just sat there, thinking, Dean had started to pull himself up by the tree. Sam quickly rushed forward to grab his arms and steady him. When he finally got to his feet Dean simply stood there, swaying and leaning more on Sam than his own legs. His eyes went wide and he quickly turned away from Sam a bit and placed an arm against the tree to prevent himself from falling over as he started to vomit. Sam just held him, softly rubbing his back. He was pretty certain Dean had a concussion. When he was sure Dean was done vomiting he let him lean against the tree while he looked for Dean's shotgun and torch and picked up his own gun as well.

They'd have to get back to the top of the hill first to pick up their stuff before they could get Dean to a hospital. He was contemplating whether he should leave Dean here while he picked up the stuff or if he should take him when he thought of something. He quickly dug out his phone and started typing. Sure, Dean may not hear at the moment but he could read, or so Sam hoped. It depended on how well he could focus because of the concussion. It was worth a try, though. Having typed the question out he held it in front of Dean.

Dean squinted a bit and grabbed Sam's hand to bring it closer but he finally let go and said: "I'll come." He may feel like shit but Dean was not going to let Sam think he was a pussy, concussion or not.

With Dean's arm around his shoulders they managed to get back to the top of the hill. Sam quickly put everything into the duffle while Dean sat on the side. In under two minutes Dean was being hoisted up again and dragging his feet as they descended the hill. Sam could feel an ache settle in his back what with Dean being smaller than him so he had to walk at a bit of an angle, slightly slumped forwards. They had to stop several times because Dean felt too dizzy or he had to throw up again. The sky was just starting to pale on the horizon when they reached the Impala.

Sam carefully placed Dean into the passenger's seat, giving him the rag he had found in the duffle and had used to dab at Dean's injuries. The one on the side of his head had stopped bleeding, as had his ears, but the one on the back of his head had only slowed, not stopped. He needed to get Dean to a hospital as quick as possible, and not just because of the concussion. His bleeding ears and the fact that he couldn't hear anything worried him.

The entire ride to the hospital Sam kept an eye on Dean, shaking his shoulder whenever he noticed him falling asleep. When they finally reached the hospital Sam let out a sigh of relief. They were at the hospital, the doctors would take care of Dean and fix him right up. Everything would be fine, Dean was strong.

There were only two other people in the emergency unit when they arrived. Sam hadn't exactly thought about what to say when they would ask what happened. He couldn't exactly tell them they had gone after a banshee so he told them some half-assed story about how they had gone hiking the previous day and had gotten lost and separated. When he found Dean he had been unconscious and hurt. When a nurse returned with a pad of paper and asked Dean what had happened he just shrugged, saying he didn't remember.

Sam was quickly ushered into an empty waiting room while they took Dean with them to run a shit load of tests. Hours passed by and Sam just sat there, hoping there wasn't any permanent damage to Dean's hearing. A hunter needed his ears as much as his eyes, even more in some cases. What you see isn't exactly always what you get, not in their line of work.

Other people entered the room before leaving again after a while. Once a nurse came in to tell him that Dean definitely had a concussion, a pretty bad one at that. When he asked her about his hearing she just shrugged, said they were still running tests. She didn't know when all the testing would be over either so he just nodded and she left. It seemed like forever until Sam decided to get himself a cup of coffee. It was something to do, something to occupy his mind, even if only for a short while. He didn't lie to himself. Their job was dangerous and they both knew that, but still, the thought that there was a very real chance that Dean would suffer from life-long consequences hit him hard. Dean would probably shrug it off, no, would definitely do so. He'd say there was nothing wrong and not to worry, Sammy.

Dean's tough. Tough as nails, tougher than anyone Sam had ever known, but he also knew that any sort of inability, anything to compromise his skills as a hunter, no matter how small, would gnaw at him. Gnaw and chip until there was nothing left. He'd already taken on too much responsibility, always has, always will, it's just who he is. But this would break him. The thoughts and realization that he's not good enough. Not good enough to protect his baby brother and shoulder all of the world's suffering like he always did.

His hands were shaking and he fumbled with his money and then the paper cup of coffee. Why was it taking so long? Was it supposed to take so long? He had only just made it back to his seat when a doctor came in looking for him. "Is he alright?" Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth. The doctor gave him a small smile that was supposed to be reassuring before answering. "He will be. Now if you'd please come with me."

Relief washed over Sam as he heard those first words but a stone of fear quickly took its place and settled cold and hard in his stomach at the next. "Of course." Sam dumped his untouched cup of coffee into the trash before following the doctor out of the waiting room. Inside the empty hallway the doctor introduced himself as Dr. Coleman before telling Sam that Dean was suffering from a pretty bad concussion so they'd like to keep him for a few days, to monitor his condition. Sam nodded but really just wanted to know about Dean's hearing. He was getting twitchy and was wringing his hands. He knew it was rude but he just really needed to know.

"What about his hearing?" Dr. Coleman stopped mid-sentence and just looked at Sam for a moment before taking a deep breath. That combined with his body language and slightly hardened expression told Sam all he really needed to know.

"We...can't seem to be able to determine exactly what happened. I've never seen a case like this. The hair cells in his inner ear are gone, all of them, at the same time. Both eardrums are completely ruptured and he may or may not have sustained damage to any of the organs that make up the inner ear. We'll have to wait until he recovers from his concussion so we can figure out if his balancing problems are simply symptoms of his concussion or not." Dr. Coleman continued talking but Sam tuned him out. Damage to the hair cells, he knew what that meant, he told Dean every time he turned up his music way too loud. Now he won't be able to hear the music ever again. "-permanent damage. He'll never hear again." Those were the last words Sam heard and they broke his heart, absolutely shattered it. Dean, his big brother who cared for him, always looked after him, deaf.

Sam fixed his gaze back on Dr. Coleman and gave him a smile he didn't feel while excusing himself. Dr. Coleman nodded, saying, "Of course." before walking away and disappearing through one of the many white doors. Sam stood there for a moment, frozen in place while his brain was still trying to catch up and process everything he had been told. Snapping out of it Sam started walking, face devoid of any emotion. He quickly found the big sliding doors they had entered through and walked outside and towards the Impala. The keys jangled lightly as he took them from his pocket, hands shaking. It took him several tries and while he tried his hardest not to damage the paintjob, he was shaking so bad, before he realized he hadn't locked the car.

Once he managed to get inside he could feel himself fall apart. After him dying and Dean making a deal to bring him back, resulting in him going to hell and then the whole thing with the angels and the impending apocalypse they thought they had survived the worst. Nothing could possibly be as bad as that. Sam would never admit it but deep down he was glad Heaven and Hell had been at each other's throats, seeing as without it they would have never sent in Castiel to bring Dean back. Sure, their lives had been shit while they were preventing the seals from being broken, chasing horsemen, preventing angles from stealing their bodies and coming face to face with the devil.

Sam still thought it was all worth it to have Dean back. After all the shit and drama the solution had been very simple. So simple it was absolutely ridiculous. Lucifer still loved Michael, even after being thrown into the cage all he really wanted was for him to understand why he had done it. Michael still loved Lucifer and felt guilty about what he had done even if it was the right thing according to God. He didn't want to fight his brother, he just had to because that was what God expected from him. After playing messenger between the two and telling them about how the other felt and thought did the trick. Lucifer managed to convince Michael - with some reluctant help from the Winchesters, they weren't exactly sure if it would work or was simply a way to get their bodies – that thinking for yourself wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

As much as he may look down on them Lucifer told Michael to look at the humans, they had free will and did things just for themselves, yet they were God's favourite creation. Still a bit reluctant Michael agreed and just like that the whole apocalypse was cancelled. All other angels had been called back upstairs as well after that. The angels taking sides and fighting against each other was not something Michael was looking forward to dealing with. Even if it was partially his fault.

After that they didn't meet anymore angels. Dean had then said that if he never saw an angel again it would be too soon. He kept bitching about how Michael and Lucifer should've just gotten on one of those relationship fixing talk shows or something instead of bothering them, for almost two months after and he still brought it up every once in a while.

All the things they had been through, all the things they had seen and none of it could compare to this. Demons, ghosts, vampires, gods and everything else they could handle, they knew how to kill. But something like this? There wasn't anything they could do. It was bad for Sam but infinitely worse for Dean. The things he knew how to do, he was good at, and he wouldn't be able to do that anymore. Not being able to hunt, to save people, to look after Sam, to Dean, that was no life. Dean thought he hid it well but Sam knew, could read him like a book. He knew Dean saw himself only as a hunter and a big brother, nothing else, and if he couldn't do either of those he was nothing. Sam knew that wasn't true, was convinced of it, but it didn't matter. Dean was the only one who needed to realise that, and he never would.

Sam closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before wiping away his tears. He got out of the Impala and back inside. The woman behind the desk wasn't the same as when he had checked Dean in. He cleared his throat to get her attention and asked after Dean Fawkes, his current alias. He really hoped they were done testing so he could just see Dean already. The woman checked her screen, clicking around a few times before telling him he was in room 521. Sam nodded and thanked her before heading towards the elevator. His mind was reeling as he waited for it and while he went up.

When he reached room 521 Sam took a deep breath before opening the door and going inside. He had absolutely no idea what state he would find Dean in. Dean didn't notice when Sam entered, didn't turn his head around to glance at him real quick like usual. The absence of something so small, something Sam never really realized until it was gone broke his heart. The way Dean was sitting there, in the chair right next to the window and was just staring outside, it was almost more than Sam could handle. Whatever happened to them, no matter what crazy shit the universe decided to throw their way, they always came out okay, even if it took a while. Sam knew that this time, it wouldn't be, couldn't be. He almost ran over towards Dean to throw his arms around him and hold him like he was the only thing left in the world. Wanted to apologize to him that, for all the times Dean had kept him safe, he couldn't to the same thing for him. He didn't though. He just walked over towards Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dean's head quickly snapped around, not used to having someone being able to sneak up on him. It was instinct, reflexes created by years of hunting.

They just looked at each other for a moment. Usually Dean would have made some joke about Sam being overly emotional or that he cried because he was a girl, this time he just ignored Sam's puffy, red eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. Dean quickly turned back towards the window after a few more moments but Sam had seen the glint of wetness in his eyes.

He gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze. Dean lifted a hand as if to place it atop his brother's but seemed to change him mind halfway and let it fall in his lap. "I'll never hear again." He finally said, voice a little too loud and uneven at the edges. Sam almost broke down and started crying again right there and then. To prevent his knees from suddenly buckling and sending him sprawling towards the floor Sam drew up the second chair next to Dean's and sat down in it.

"Can we please go, Sammy? I don't want to be here anymore." Sam had never seen Dean quite as vulnerable and lost as he looked right now.

"Dean, we can't. The doctors-" Sam's voice died down as he realized his mistake. It was going to take a lot of getting used to. Gulping, he looked around the room but saw neither paper nor pen so he just took out his phone again. _'We can't. The doctor said they need to make sure your concussion doesn't worsen.' _He tapped out before sliding it towards Dean.

"We've dealt with concussions before." Dean said, looking up from the phone and back outside. Despite his voice being slightly off due to the fact that Dean couldn't hear himself Sam could still hear the hurt in it clear as day.

Sighing he grabbed back his phone. He didn't know if Dean knew already or not but if not he felt bad for having to tell him. Being deaf was bad enough already. _'They need to make sure your problems balancing are because of the concussion, not damage to your inner ear.'_

Dean was silent for several minutes after that. Sam guessed that the doctors hadn't wanted to say anything about it until they had run more tests and were sure of it. Sam went to squeeze Dean's shoulder again but Dean shrugged it off. "Could you…please leave, Sam. I need to be alone."

Sam understood. As much as he wanted to be with Dean he understood. If he still hadn't been able to completely wrap his mind around the fact that Dean was deaf, then how hard would it be for Dean to admit and accept it. He got up and picked up his phone, but before putting it away he quickly tapped out a last message. _'I'll be back tomorrow.' _Dean nodded at that but didn't look at Sam. Resisting the urge to touch Dean's shoulder one last time Sam walked towards the door. He had it partially opened and right before he slipped through he turned around one more time. He had to avert his head and almost ran out of the room when he saw Dean's shoulders shake as he cried.

He made it to the Impala and drove to the motel on auto-pilot, all the while whishing banshees had a corporeal form instead of just a spectral one. He would have made the bitch suffer for what she did to his brother, as much as he knew Dean would.

When Sam entered their room he made straight for the bed closest to the door, Dean's bed, and fell down on it. The alarm clock on the nightstand showed him it was barely noon but he didn't care. He didn't know how long he lay there, drifting in and out of sleep and thinking when he was awake. There was a hollow in his chest. He should be happy, Dean was still with him, not dead or in Hell as he had been, but somehow, that only hurt more. This would change them, both of them, but Dean most of all. After everything they've been through, even Hell, Dean shouldered on and did his best to become the Dean he used to be again. This time he wouldn't be able to do so.

Thinking about it only made Sam feel worse but there was just no way he could stop. With a sigh he reached for his jacket that lay on the floor, he didn't even remember taking it off, and took out his phone. He opened up the contact list and scrolled down a bit, but didn't press the call button right away. After a few more moments he pressed it and held it to his ear, the dial tone overly loud.

For a moment Sam thought no one would pick up but just before it could go over to voicemail a familiar voice flooded over him. "Whaddaya idjits need this time, I'm kinda busy right now. You killed that banshee yet?"

Sam felt relief wash over him. No matter what happened, Bobby would always be there for them. "Yeah, we..euh..we killed it. It's just," Sam heard his voice break but he didn't care, he just needed to tell someone. Bobby didn't say anything, just hummed short and soft to let Sam know he was listening. Over the years he had learned when it was best to be silent and just listen and now was one of those moments. He could hear from Sam's voice that something had happened so he gave him the time he would needed to get it out. "It's Dean, he…euh…the banshee…when we killed it….she….euh…" Sam's voice faded away and turned into a sniffle.

"Sam?" Bobby prompted when Sam didn't continue. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. What happened to Dean, Sam?"

A few more moments of silence and Sam was crying again. "No, it's not Bobby, it won't be okay, it never can be. He's deaf, Bobby, completely, and there's nothing they can do." Sam could hear Bobby stumble on the other end of the line, probably getting to a chair and falling into it.

"Deaf? Completely? He can't hear a thing, at all?"

"No. Oh god, Bobby, what do I do?" Despair was evident in Sam's voice as he rubbed at his face, at the hot tears that spilled from his eyes. " This is all my fault."

"I don't believe that, Sam. You'd never let him get hurt, not intentionally, now tell me what happened." Bobby said.

Sam nodded even though Bobby couldn't see him. He took a few deep breaths to even out his quivering voice before starting. "I don't know what happened exactly but we were on the hill, and Dean was supposed to look out for her while I did the ritual. I guess he must have spotted her or something and have thought that if he distracted her I could complete the ritual. She…she must have lured him down the hill quite a bit because it took me a while to find him. When I finished with the ritual, she screamed, like, really screamed. My ears are still ringing, it's lessened but it's still there, and I was atop the hill. Dean, he was with her. I should've kept an eye on him, have prevented him from following her."

Bobby let out a sigh when Sam finished. "Sam, it's not your fault. You couldn't know that was what was going to happen. I've never heard of a banshee screaming like that, they usually just fade out. Now, you boys get your asses over here as soon as you can and we'll figure this out, okay?"

Sam felt a small smile creep up on his face, the first since he found Dean. "We will. He's still in the hospital right now, he's got a concussion and they need to see if his problems balancing are because of that or damage to his inner ear. Thanks Bobby."

"No problem, Sam." Static filling the line as Sam ended the call.

Still holding onto the phone Bobby ran a hand over his face as he sank deeper in the chair, trying to process everything Sam had just told him. He knew he'd do anything for those boys short of making another deal with a demon. Complete and permanent deafness. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd be able to do about it but that wouldn't stop him from trying. One thing he did know was that Dean was probably never going to hunt again. Good sensory abilities were just too important in their line of work.

For a while Sam just lay on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and phone still in hand, even after almost two hours. The only reason Sam got up at all was because he became aware of the painful gnawing in his stomach, and only because it rumbled loud enough to snap him out of his daze. He still took the Impala's keys with him but didn't take the car. He thought maybe the crisp, cool autumn air might clear his head. It did none of the sort, to be honest. It didn't clear his head as much as he just forced himself to notice and pay attention to every little detail, no matter how stupid or useless, on the road to the store.

He bought some pre-packaged sandwiches, several bottles of water and some whiskey. He wasn't really sure how much Dean had left but he knew that he'd need a couple of drinks to get through this. When he went up to the check-out register he saw a display of candy bars and grabbed a couple for Dean. He distinctly remembered the other times Dean had been in a hospital, his biggest concern the food, always the food. This brought a hint of a smile on Sam's lips but it disappeared almost instantly. He quickly paid before returning to the motel.

As he passed the Impala in the parking lot he opened up the trunk and took out the duffle they had taken with them to banish the banshee.

Back in the room he turned the bag upside down, letting everything fall on his bed before grabbing the book as well as some of the others that lay strewn around the room and his laptop. With those books spread out over the tiny, rickety motel room table he opened up his sandwich and poured himself a glass of whiskey. If there was nothing they could do, if Dean was going to stay deaf forever it wouldn't be for lack of trying on his part.

Sam had no idea where the sudden motivation, maybe even an inkling of hope came from, just that if there was anything to find on the subject, he would find it. Dean had been strong for him for as long as he could remember, now it was his turn to return the favour.


	2. The Waiting Game

Sam startled awake when a stack of books came crashing down onto the floor. For a moment or two he looked around, dazed, before his brain awoke enough to catch up. It was dark with only a sliver of moonlight making its way through the window and painting a strip of floor silvery white.

Sam slumped back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face before running them through his hair. He had been so hell bent on finding something that he had completely ignored how tired he had been. In the end it must have been too much and he fell asleep right on top of his books and laptop.

He picked up the fallen books before getting up and going into the bathroom to splash some water on his face to help him wake up. As soon as he got up he almost let himself fall back into his chair. Apparently hiking through a park with an uneven underground all night, half of which he had to practically carry Dean, had done a real number on his muscles. A groan came from deep in his throat and stretched out as he slowly and carefully righted himself.

Once he managed to stumble into the bathroom he fumbled around for the light switch for a bit. When he finally flipped the light on he had to squint so as not to be blinded by the all too sudden and way too bright artificial light. When his eyes were more or less adjusted to it he finally looked towards the mirror and at himself. His eyes lay deep and dark and his hair was a mess, that and Sam noticed that he must have fallen asleep right on his keyboard because he could see the already fading outlines of the keys pressed into his cheek.

After relieving himself Sam decided to just forgo splashing his face with some water and take a shower instead. He turned the shower on to let the water warm as he quickly went into the room to grab a clean shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table while he undressed Sam saw that it was just past 1 AM. It would probably be best for him to try and get a few hours of sleep in before he would continue his research. He just couldn't really focus and might so miss something important. It also meant that he would be closer to seeing Dean again, no matter how much he knew it was going to hurt.

Steam started to waft out of the bathroom so Sam quickly threw the rest of his clothes on his bed before going in and closing the door. He had turned up the temperature as far as it would go so when he first set foot into the stall and under the spray he gasped and had to bite his lower lip. The water scalded his skin but he held out and soon he got used to it enough to go and stand under the water completely.

He let his eyes fall closed as the water poured over him and he could feel his cramped muscles relax. He had no idea how long he stood there, relishing in the warm water, but he quickly scrubbed his skin and washed his hair when he felt like he was going to fall asleep any minute, right in the shower. The water managed to relax more than just his muscles, it had managed to erode and smooth the sharp edges of worry and hurt that made up the majority of the stress he had been suffering from ever since he first found Dean.

Sam got out of the shower, dried off and got dressed in a matter of minutes. With a towel halfway over his head he exited the bathroom, still rubbing at it to dry his hair at least enough so that he wouldn't have to sleep on a soaked pillow. He made his way over towards his laptop and woke it up to bookmark the pages he was on and shut it down properly. Throwing the towel over the back of the second chair he walked over towards Dean's bed and climbed in. He was certain that, no matter how tired he was, it would take him a while to fall asleep what with everything that had happened and was still going on. Surprisingly, as soon as he had turned around a bit to make himself comfortable he was out like a light.

oo00oo00oo

The skies were clearing up and the thick, dark rainclouds gave way to small fluffy ones. A ray of sunlight hit Sam right in the face causing him to groan and bury his face in the pillow. "Dean, did you forget to close the curtains again?" He mumbled, hiding deeper underneath his blanket. He still ached all over and wanted nothing more than to stay in bed for an entire week. Sam was a little thrown off when he didn't hear Dean's usual groan or disgruntled snore. "Dean?" He asked as he sat up, squinting against the light. The drawn out sound of the 'n' hung heavy in the air when Sam didn't spot his brother and realization came rushing back. Dean wasn't here because he was in the hospital and the curtains weren't closed because Sam had fallen asleep on top of his laptop and had forgotten about them because it had already been dark when he finally crawled into bed.

Sam had slept longer than he thought he would but it was still too early to go over to the hospital and see Dean. He hoped to see the doctor today now that he was a little more level headed and ask him when they were planning on running those tests and when Dean would be free to go. Dean would be miserable whether he was in the hospital or at Bobby's but at least he wouldn't have to deal with doctors prodding and probing him at the latter.

It may not seem like much and the fact that at Bobby's he would be confronted with the fact that he couldn't hunt anymore wouldn't probably do him any good, but Sam knew that it would be better in the long run. Both him and Bobby knew Dean and how to handle him, they'd be able to help him out without him suspecting, or at least try. They were family and wouldn't give up on Dean just because he couldn't do what he was good at anymore, no matter if that was how Dean thought about himself.

When he finally got out of bed Sam decided to take another long, hot shower in an attempt to alleviate the ache in his muscles even the tiniest bit more. After he got out he found a leftover sandwich and decided to eat it for breakfast while he did some more research.

After a few hours of nothing Sam was about to leave for the hospital when something caught his eye. He spent an additional three hours looking into it and anything that was even vaguely related before that too turned out to be nothing.

Frustrated, Sam slammed his laptop closed. He was starting to get the feeling that he was looking for a needle in a ginormous haystack, if there even was a needle at that. The cause of the damage may have been supernatural but the damage itself was anything but. It wasn't that he was giving up, far from it, just that it was getting harder. Banshees were fairly simple creatures, their modus operandi was pretty consistent no matter where or why they appeared. Asides from one thing this banshee had done nothing out of the ordinary.

With one last sigh Sam picked up his jacket and the keys to the Impala. He really wanted to see Dean and as he drove he worried about the state he would find him in. Would his stay in the hospital have calmed or infuriated him? Would he have at least decided to try and maybe come to terms with what happened or would he just ignore it all like he always did? Sam was a pretty good judge when it came to Dean but this time he really had no idea. He just hoped that whatever it was, Dean would let him help.

This time he parked the Impala on the actual parking instead of somewhere near the ER hoping no one would run into her. He didn't have to ask for Dean's room number so he just walked in and headed directly for the elevator. There were several people inside already and he was tapping his foot as of course they had to stop on each floor to let either people in or out.

When he finally reached the fifth floor he almost ran out but slowed when he heard shouting. The majority of the patients were either standing in the hallway or peeking their heads out. He couldn't understand what was being yelled but it seemed to come from the general vicinity of Dean's room. The fact that he didn't see him standing outside his room was only more cause for concern. Dean, troublemaker that he was, would never let anything happen so close to him without inevitably having to get involved.

The voice, which Sam could identify as female fell silent but almost immediately another, slightly deeper female voice took over. It only lasted a few words before a familiar voice interrupted and had Sam rushing towards Dean's room.

Apparently not even being deaf or suffering from a severe concussion could withhold Dean from raising hell wherever he went. Sam didn't even bother to knock, they probably wouldn't even hear it, and just barged into the room.

The two nurses who had been yelling at each other, probably at Dean as well but he couldn't really hear them, both red in the face with anger of frustration, most likely both, turned to look at him. Dean saw that as his cue and started yelling again, but at Sam this time. "Sammy, tell them I don't need any more tests! Tell them to let me out of here or so help me!" Sam quickly walked over to Dean and put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. The older of the two nurses was scribbling on a notepad quite frantically. She must have written quite a bit of things down already as several ripped off pages lay at her feet.

The other nurse closed her eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down a bit before taking a step towards Sam. Dean immediately leaned away from her and growled. She stopped for a second before taking another step which had Dean hissing, actually hissing, and grabbing onto Sam and moving him in front of himself. "No more needles, lady, or I'll stick 'em all right where it hurts most." That finally had her standing still.

She took another deep breath, Sam could see her left eye twitch, and focussed on Sam instead. "I'm sorry, but he-" She was interrupted as the other nurse seemed to have stopped writing and held up the pad for Dean to read while yelling the same thing but with a bit more colouring.

"You can either let us do our jobs and take your medication and let us draw some blood or I can call the doctor in here, right know, and have him pump you full of sedatives. Then we can do as we want and I swear, it'll be a lot more unpleasant. You're in a hospital and you will show some respect. In all honesty, I couldn't care less if you fell dead here right now. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with such a jackass anymore." Dean narrowed his eyes at her and his upper lip was pulled back just enough to show a hint of teeth.

Sam could already feel a headache coming up but he'd have to handle this before someone accidentally tore someone else's throat out. He had no idea how long this had been going on but it had to stop. He gave Dean one long, stern look before turning towards both nurses. "If you could just give me a minute. I'll talk to you two right away but if you could just step outside, I'd really appreciate it." The younger of the two made her way towards the door but the other one gave Sam a sceptical look before scowling at Dean and reluctantly stepping outside as well.

As soon as they were out of the room Sam turned to Dean and got out his phone. He barely had time to type anything before Dean started. "I need to get out of here, Sam, right fucking now! They treat me like an invalid, like an idiot. I know I'm deaf, no need to repeat it a gazillion times. This is definitely the worst hospital I've _ever_ been in."

Sam nodded before tapping out. _"I know, Dean. Just try to calm down, okay?" _and handing it to Dean. Dean quickly read it before throwing the phone towards the end of his bed.

"I am calm! They just…hey, Sam…where're you going? Sam!" He yelled as Sam exited the room to talk to the two nurses. He had a pretty good idea of what Dean had done but he still wanted to know.

Only one of the two nurses was left standing outside, the younger one. Sam had to assume the other had gone off to either calm down or just didn't want to have anything to do with Dean anymore. "I'm sorry about him." Sam began, "He doesn't exactly have the best of memories of being in a hospital. Could you please tell me what happened?"

The nurse just looked at him before shrugging. "Well, he has been refusing to take any medication since yesterday evening. In fact, he has pretty much been refusing to do anything; when the doctor wanted to run a few more small tests, when anyone came in to check in on him or ask if he needed any help with anything. He also refuses to eat, says probably hid sedatives in it. Oh, and he also back talks anyone who comes into his room, calling them names if they don't leave and demanding to be released." Sam couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips as his eyebrows shot up for just a moment. Oh, that was Dean, all right.

"Considering the severity of the concussion and his behaviour," The nurse continued, "I assume it isn't the first time this has happened?"

Sam shook his head. "No. no, it's not."

The nurse hummed softly before mumbling, "Thought so." She looked at the door to Dean's room for a second before focussing back on Sam. "You two seem to know each other so you might actually be able to talk to him about the hearing loss. Whenever someone tried to explain he wouldn't even look at the paper, just shove it away or tear it apart. There's nothing we can do, even if the doctors were ever to find out what caused it."

Sam nodded when she was done. It only confirmed what he had thought when he first heard and then saw Dean pissing off those that wanted to help him. He may act like he was fine and was just frustrated and angry that they didn't let him go, while in fact he was just keeping it all inside, burying it as he always did. Only this wasn't something that they could resolve by Sam forcing Dean to talk about it or wait for it so solve itself.

This was something big, and permanent. Something that would change their entire lives. "I'll see what I can do." Sam said, giving her a small nod before walking back inside the room.

Inside he found Dean sitting on his bed, cross-legged and with his arms folded in front of his chest, pouting and looking very much like the small child he never really had the chance to be. He was staring at the footboard as if staring long and hard enough would cause it to go up in flames. He only looked up when he noticed Sam walking into his peripheral vision.

Before Dean could even open his mouth and say something Sam dug a hand in his pocket and came up with one of the candy bars he had bought the day before and threw it. It was the most chocolaty one they had. Dean's eyes lit up when he caught it and immediately tore off half of the wrapper and took as much in his mouth as he could in one bite. It wasn't just for Dean's sake that he had given it to him, but for his own as well. He really needed to talk to Dean and make it clear that his inability to hear wasn't just something he could brush off.

Sam sat himself down at the foot of the bed and took back his phone which still lay between the folds of the blanket where Dean had thrown it earlier. He waited until Dean had practically inhaled his candy bar and had licked off his fingers before taking a deep breath and looking him straight in the eyes. The glimmer in Dean's eyes faded when he recognized the look on Sam's face. It was the look he always got when Sam wanted to talk. Dean didn't really have to think about what Sam wanted him to talk about. The hospital, the concussion, it had all happened several times before except for one thing. If it was up to him he would bury it underneath everything else he kept locked up tight inside him and ignore it alltogether, pretend that it didn't happen. He knew that it was impossible but still tried to convince himself that that would be it. It was as flawed as anything could be but honestly, Dean just didn't know any other way, didn't really want to know another.

"Sammy, please. I really don't want to talk about this, okay. I'm deaf, I'm never going to hear again, I'm a fucking idiot for going after that bitch on my own. I get it, I really do. But you know what? We'll get through this, everything will be fine. I mean, we stopped the fucking apocalypse. We'll just deal with everything as it comes up." Dean's voice was still a little too loud and uneven, kind of like listening to someone who's talking with headphones on, unconsciously raising their voice in order to hear themselves. The only difference was that no matter how loud Dean would speak or yell, he'd never hear his own voice again, or anyone's for that matter.

Dean's eyes were on his crossed ankles when Sam started to tap on his phone. "I just don't want anyone to think of me as an idiot and treat me like an invalid. I need to protect you, Sammy, and I won't be able to do that anymore. I'm sorry." Sam stopped tapping and looked at Dean, confused. Dean didn't look up, though, too interested in his socked feet and the hem of his pants. The words had been whispered, so soft Sam wasn't entirely sure he had actually heard them. As he looked at Dean, looking all lost and broken on a hospital bed while desperately trying to hide it all and pretend he was fine for the sake of his younger brother, he was pretty certain Dean hadn't meant to say anything. Those words weren't for him, Dean had been thinking and, without realizing, had done so out loud.

Knowing Dean, Sam decided to just ignore it. He'd probably throw a fit and deny it vehemently. Sam simply decided to file that titbit of information away and take it into account. He knew Dean always had to feel superior and the fact that he couldn't hear had probably blown a big hole in his already low self-esteem.

They just sat on the bed for a bit while Sam tried to find the right words for what he wanted to say and type it out for Dean. _"This isn't something we can just ignore, Dean. This will have a huge impact on our lives. Bobby said we could come over and stay for a while after you get out of here so we can figure this all out. You have to realize, you'll probably never be able to hunt again." _Sam kept staring at his own words for a bit, not sure if he should delete the last sentence or not. It would be hard for Dean to have it actually said to him but he needed to realize. After another moment Sam finally decided to just hand over the phone. He didn't look at his brother, though. He knew it needed to be said but he still felt like a dick for doing it.

Dean's hand tightened around the phone after he read Sam's message. When their eyes finally met Sam thought for a moment that Dean would start to yell again. "Don't do this to me, Sammy. Don't take away the only thing I'm good at. We'll figure this out, we'll find a way." Sam nodded solemnly because he didn't really know what else to say.

He knew well enough that for Dean, laying down his gun and never hunting again wasn't an option, at least not in his eyes. He'd find a way though. Even if it took him years and required him moving both Hell and Heaven, Sam would find a way to make it up to Dean, to fix this. After all, he did blame himself. If he had just looked back over his shoulder once he would have seen Dean divert from his intended position, would have been able to keep him close and safe.

Not looking away from Dean's face Sam curled his hand around Dean's to pry his fingers from around his phone and take it back. "I'm sorry, Dean." He said, making sure to articulate as best as he could before deleting the previous message on the screen and typing those exact same words before handing it over.

Dean didn't look at the screen, though. He had been able to make out the words as Sam spoke. "Don't be." Dean murmured before sitting up a little straighter and dropping the phone in Sam's lap so he could grab his ankles. "Now then, you can make it up to me by getting me out of this place. This mattress sucks." A smile was on his face but it didn't reach his eyes.

Sam did his best to smile back but it was just as empty. "I'll see what I can do."

As he stood up he seemed to remember the other candy bars he had with them and scooped them out of his pocket and onto the bed before slipping his phone in. "Thanks, Sammy, you're the best." Sam just gave a small nod before he walked out of the room in search of the doctor. Certainly, if Dean was able to raise hell as he had done he was good enough to be let out of the hospital.

A small chuckle escaped Sam as he strolled down the hall. Even if neither of them ever said so they had both kinda started to think they were invincible. They hunted living, breathing nightmares, were able to kill practically anything in existence, had averted the apocalypse and both of them had even managed to cheat death. Suppose that's something bound to go to your head after a while, even if you weren't actually conscious about it. They were some of the best hunters out there and monsters feared them, and they had to have been knocked down so hard to be reminded of how fragile they actually were. Their luck was bound to run dry someday, and that day had come.

When he reached the nurse station Sam asked if it would be possible to talk to Dr. Coleman. The nurse in charge tapped a few keys on her keyboard before smiling and telling him that Dr. Coleman should be here soon. Sam thanked her and was on his way back to Dean's room so he could wait there when he saw Dr. Coleman exit the elevator.

He quickly turned around and walked over. "Excuse me, Dr. Coleman?" Dr. Coleman looked up from the papers he was holding and gave Sam a quick smile.

"Well, it seems like Dean has calmed down at least."

Sam gave him the briefest of smiles in return. "Yes, he has. I was just wondering when he would be allowed to get out of here."

"Ahh, I thought you might ask that. He's quite stubborn isn't he? I've never seen anyone bounce back so quickly after a concussion that bad. Well," Dr Coleman shuffled through his papers as he dragged out the 'l' until apparently he found the right one. "He seems to be doing very well, his rather unruly behaviour aside. There's one last test we want to run but I guess we can do that somewhere this afternoon. If that one turns up clean I guess you can take him back home tomorrow. You'll still have to look out for him and if any of his symptoms worsen I need you to go and see a doctor as soon as possible."

Sam nodded after Dr. Coleman was done speaking. "No problem. We know how to handle concussions." Sam received a somewhat sceptical look at that but decided to just ignore it.

"Best you go tell him then. I'm sure Mr. Fawkes will be thrilled with the prospect of getting out of here." With that Dr. Coleman walked away, leaving Sam standing in the hallway by himself.

Sam was sure Dean wouldn't enjoy having to undergo another test one bit but maybe the fact that his release depended on the results might cause him to hold his tongue for once and just do as he was told. He quickly tapped out the message while he walked back to Dean's room. Once inside Sam was about to just plop the phone in Dean's hands but once he saw the state of his hands he quickly pulled the phone close to his chest.

Dean just looked at him with a frown as he lifted his hands and made grabby motions for the phone. "What'd the doc say?" Sam just gave him one of his patented bitchfaces before pointedly looking down at Dean's chocolate covered hands. Dean just looked even more confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes. He unfolded his legs and got off the bed causing a shower of candy wrappers to fall off as well. Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes as he crossed his arms.

Dean ignored his brother as he made his way over towards the small bathroom to wash his hands. "Bitch." He said.

"Jerk." Sam replied without thinking. Not that it mattered much, not really. Dean knew he had said it, he always knew, even if Sam only said it inside his head.

"Now give me that phone." Dean demanded as soon as he walked up to Sam. When Sam still didn't give it to him he held up his hands and flipped them over to show that no, there wasn't any chocolate left. Pleased, Sam handed over the phone. "Fucking finally." Dean said before letting himself fall down on his back on the bed. He kicked his legs back and forth while raising up the phone and waiting for Sam to take it after he quickly read the message.

Both stayed on the bed for a while, Dean hanging half off it while Sam sat at the foot of it, in comfortable silence. Over the years they had spent a lot of time in silence, whether it was while sitting in shitty motel rooms, driving cross country in the Impala or while they were on a hunt. The simple fact that the other was there and the shared knowledge that neither would just leave the other behind; it was familiar, comforting.

Sam had no idea how long he sat there but when he heard a soft snore from Dean he decided it was time to leave. Dean may never admit it but he needed all the rest he could get. With a small smile on his lips Sam hooked an arm under Dean's knees to place his legs on the bed. Recognizing Sam's touch even when asleep Dean just shifted around on the bed a bit to get into a more comfortable position but never woke up.

Right after he pulled the blanket over Dean Sam saw the door open from the corner of his eye. It was just a nurse bringing Dean his lunch but Sam still rushed over to take the tray. Concussion or not, Dean would probably wake as soon as someone who wasn't Sam entered the room. He placed the tray on the small table by the window before looking for a pen. He finally managed to locate one and wrote, _"Make sure to eat something." _on the paper napkin. With that he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Sam really wanted Dean out of the hospital, but now that he was asleep and going to be tested he could do the one thing that might give him some answers, that is, if there even were any. He really wanted to go back and have a look at the place where he had found Dean. If there were any answers to be found it would be there. He had a theory about why this particular banshee had let out their famous scream right before she died.

He was still going to talk it over with Bobby once they got to Sioux Falls but if he was right there was no way to help Dean. He preferred to ignore that tiny detail, though, at least until he was completely sure. The amount of books Bobby had just meant it would take a while until they found what they were looking for.

After the tests, which would come out clean, they would leave for Sioux Falls the moment Dean was released. Then they were going to search those dusty old tomes for a while and eventually one of them would stumble upon a solution, and that was that, Dean would hear again and the two of them would go back to hunting. Nothing wrong with a little break, right? At least, that was what Sam was telling himself as he drove towards the park.

Oh, who was he kidding. This was them, Murphy's law had ingrained itself into their very souls. Yet he kept repeating it inside his head, at one moment he was basically shouting. Maybe, just maybe, he could make himself believe.

His first stop was the official entrance to the park. Places like this often used legends like the banshee one as a way to lure tourists. Sam's theory was proven right when he spent some time on the several information folders. There was one devoted to the history and local folklore of the area and just as he thought, the story of the banshee was in there as well.

The story, as most, had probably been blown up quite a bit to seem more exciting but for all the lies, tourist folders often contained an awful lot of truth. People loved ghost stories, the bloodier and more ghastly the better. With a folder in hand Sam walked back outside so he could drive up to the spot Dean and him had used to get inside two nights ago.

What he found in the folder seemed to confirm his theory but he still wanted to take a look at the spot, even if it would just end up being a waste of time. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with what ifs.

It felt strange to Sam to be undertaking the same hike but during the day and without Dean by his side. It just didn't seem right, somehow. The fact that he would be alone with his thoughts for quite a while without any real distractions wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to either.

Halfway through Sam cursed himself. He was still a little sore from his previous hike, and no matter the hot showers, doing it a second time was anything but beneficial to his muscles. He was aching all over and wasn't even halfway yet. All the hot showers in the world wouldn't be able to make him feel comfortable again after this was over. No matter how much he wanted to get Dean out of the hospital and to Bobby's he was dreading driving there. Over three hours of being cramped up in a confined space. As soon as they'd get to Booby's he would call dibs on the bathroom for at least an hour or three and just soak.

When he finally did make it to the hill Sam was glad to notice that it had taken him less time than last time. The fact that he could actually see where he was going and where to put his feet helped tremendously.

His first stop was the top of the hill where he had done the ritual. The banshee hadn't actually been there but he wasn't going to take chances. It looked pretty much exactly like he had left it. Some sand had been blown ever the remnants of the sigils he'd drawn in the earth but that was it. Just to be sure Sam took out his EMF meter but the device stayed silent. Just to be sure he looked the place over once more before concluding that there were no signs of anything supernatural.

With a sigh and a somewhat heavy heart Sam started to descend along the side of the hill. It was a bit trickier to find the way he had taken before to get to the place where he had found Dean since everything looked different in the daylight and he hadn't actually been paying much attention to his surroundings in his search to find Dean. It may have taken a while and several hikes back up the hill but he finally managed to find the exact spot.

It was strange, standing there in the broad daylight. To everyone else it would just seem like a regular hillside in the Badlands, but not to Sam. Whatever Dean had heard in this exact spot was the last thing he had and would ever hear. It broke Sam's heart a little to see how ordinary it looked. You'd never see that something had happened here except if you knew what you were looking for. The skid marks from where he had tumbled down towards the tree were still visible, but just like the sigils, only just.

Nothing pointed towards the fact that a banshee had tried to kill his brother here. The EMF meter stayed eerily silent as well, something that did more to Sam than a dozen, all blaring at the same time, ever would. He and Dean had spent so much time killing the supernatural that it barely struck any fear in them at all. The monsters had become such an everyday part of their lives that they never thought about things like medical conditions.

At least, not until it was too late, and that fear had rooted deep inside them, and it was the unfamiliarity of it that had them both scared. The philosophy that anything even remotely scary could be killed no matter how hard it may seem had them unprepared for something that left them completely powerless.

Sam lost track of time as he stood there, lost in thought and staring at nothing. He only snapped out of it when a cold breeze swept over him and made him shiver. The sun was slowly making its way westwards as the air got colder. He still had a bit of a trek ahead of him to get back to the Impala. As he walked down to the foot of the hill Sam started to wonder if they had already finished Dean's tests and if so when they would have the results. He wanted nothing more than to leave this place. He just really needed Dean out of the hospital so he could get him to Bobby's and he could start to deal with what happened to him. Sam knew Dean was just acting fine so he could be alone as quick as possible. He'd have a hard time accepting what happened to him, Sam too, but Dean more. This wasn't just something he could keep inside and ignore and it pained Sam every time he did it.

When he finally got in behind the wheel of the Impala Sam wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. His feet, shins and thighs were absolutely killing him. The only bit of hope they had left were Bobby's books, and even that spark didn't shine as bright as it had before in Sam's mind. He felt like he had to nurture it, keep it alive and shining, because he knew Dean wouldn't.

Sam's knuckles turned white as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Moments later Sam turned on the ignition and tore out of the dirt patch where he had parked the Impala and onto the road. He needed to get out of this place, needed to get Dean out of it.

Sam stopped on his way back to the motel to buy something to eat and fill up the Impala's tank. They had a long drive ahead of them tomorrow morning and he wanted to get there with as little stops as possible, the sooner they got to Bobby's the better. He barely paid any heed to the fact that maybe Dean's test results would turn up positive and he'd have to stay at the hospital for an undetermined period of time. Those tests would turn up clear and they'd leave tomorrow morning, that he was convinced of.

He was just about to continue on his way to the motel when his phone rang. Sam quickly reached into his pocket to see who was calling. The unfamiliar number had him frowning a little. As soon as he realized exactly who was calling him he could feel a sense of worry blossom inside him.

"Is this Mr. Donovan?" The voice at the other end of the line asked. "Hello?"

"Euhm, yes, sorry, That, euh, that's me." Sam said after a few moments of silence, remembering the name he had given the hospital along with his phone number in case anything happened to Dean.

"Hi, I'm calling in name of Dr. Coleman, it's about Mr. Fawkes' test results." Sam's heartbeat sped up and he could feel the worry being pumped further and further through his veins with every beat.

"Is he okay?" He tried his best to keep the shakiness in his voice to a minimum even though his whole body was shaking.

"Oh, he's fine, the test results came back clear. His balance should be completely back to normal within a few days." She reassured Sam. "He can go home tomorrow, although it would be recommended he-"

Sam ended the conversation after that, that was all he needed to know. They could get out of here tomorrow. He stopped shaking and felt the worry coursing through his veins disappear as he threw his phone onto the passenger's seat.


	3. Date With a Rugaru

Dean had absolutely no idea of when Sam would come pick him up, all he knew was that he wanted to get out of this hospital and preferably as soon as possible. After he woke up he took a quick shower before rushing downstairs. As soon as he saw the Impala he would be out of here and that would be that. He had just about enough of all those doctors and nurses poking and prodding him.

He was pretty certain he was supposed to wait in his room or something and then have Sam check him out but he didn't care. There were a bunch of tall plants near the entrance so Dean had grabbed one of the chairs from the lobby and had dragged it behind one of them as subtly as he could. The fact that it was still pretty early in the morning helped as well, not that many people wandering about just yet and the guy manning the desk was too busy being pissed off at his computer.

He had no idea how long he sat there but he was absolutely bored out of his skull. After about an hour or so Dean had managed to get his hands on some of the magazines that lay scattered around the lobby but they were mostly either of the vomit-inducing-gossip variant, fashion or just a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo. Rolling his eyes as he wondered how people managed to read those things, let alone enjoy them he just chucked them somewhere on the windowsill not far away from him. Instead of burning out his eyes with crap he then decided to just observe the people passing by the hospital and occasionally walking in or exiting. He also studied the cars parked outside as well as the ones simply passing by but nothing he saw could compare to his baby.

Everything was just kind of starting to blur together because of sheer boredom when Dean caught a familiar black shimmer from the corner of his eyes. The Impala pulled up into the small parking lot at the front before coming to a stop. The moment he saw the door open and Sam clamber out he was on his feet, wobbling a bit because his balance wasn't up to par yet, and ran outside.

When Sam spotted his brother he took a few quick steps towards him before grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking his head. When Dean gave him an annoyed look he quickly took his phone out of his pocket and typed: _"We need to check you out first, Dean. Or did you already do it?" _Dean rolled his eyes at that. That was enough for Sam so he just herded Dean back towards the entrance.

The guy at the desk had apparently stopped trying to kill his computer as he gave both Sam and Dean a quick smile before asking, "How may I help you?". "I'm picking up Dean Fawkes here." Sam said, jerking a thumb towards Dean who just stood there looking annoyed with his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Dr. Coleman's assistant called me yesterday and said he was to be released today." The guy tapped a few keys before asking for Dean's signature. Sighing, Dean quickly scribbled something down before spinning on his heels and towards the exit. Sam had to quicken his gate for a few steps to keep up with Dean. Once outside Dean quickly got into the passenger's seat of the Impala and Sam could just see the energy drain out of him. By the time Sam was seated Dean looked absolutely miserable, huddled in his jacket with droopy eyes as he rested his head against the window.

Just like that Sam was back out of the car and going through their bags. As he got back in he dropped a bottle of water and one with painkillers in Dean's lap. Without the need to say anything or look at each other Sam started the Impala and rode out of the parking lot while Dean took some of the painkillers and drained about half the bottle.

At first Sam kept sneaking glances towards Dean to make sure he was okay, but stopped when he was about to stop for some breakfast a little over half an hour into the drive and he saw him sleeping. They could eat when they got to Bobby's.

When they were just under an hour out from Sioux Falls Dean woke up with a start. Glancing Sam noticed the glisten of sweat on his brow as well as the paleness of his face. He didn't say anything, though, just kept staring at the road ahead. Dean's eye movements were a little frantic as he took in his surroundings and stroked a hand along the Impala's dashboard as if to make sure it was real. "How long?" He croaked, voice rough with sleep and the dryness of his mouth. Dean quickly drained the rest of the bottle before looking over at Sam to see him hold up one finger.

"Little under an hour." Dean sank back into his seat at that. He was still hoping that somehow, this whole deafness thing would just disappear, but seeing Sam's lips move and hearing no sound come out made him feel crappier than he already did. After a rather unsuccessful attempt at stretching his back Dean turned up the collar of his jacket and kind of hid into it as he looked at the passing scenery.

That was how the rest of the drive passed, with Dean staring out of the window and Sam staring at the road with the occasional quick glance towards Dean to make sure he was alright.

As soon as Sam parked the Impala right outside the house Bobby made his way outside. Sam could almost see his face fall when he saw Dean get out of the car. He looked like crap now that he didn't have to pretend anymore. "Hey Bobby." He said, giving him a small nod before disappearing inside the house.

Bobby's eyes followed him until the door fell closed and then turned to Sam who just shook his head. "That bad, huh." Bobby made his way over to the Impala to help Sam with the bags. Sam let out a deep breath as he opened up the trunk and grabbed the bags inside while Bobby took the one on the backseat.

"I think being in that hospital made him worse, if that's even possible. He wanted to get out of there so bad he just ignored it and pretended to be fine. The nurses told me he wasn't eating, barely slept and didn't take his medication. He was also yelling at everyone to just get out of his hair and I think all those tests did something too. He just wanted to get out of there and as soon as he got into the car he collapsed. He took a bunch of painkillers and went right to sleep."

Bobby didn't say a word as they brought the bags inside, just listened before herding Sam towards the kitchen table and pouring them both a glass of whiskey. Sam sat down and quickly downed the glass in one go before putting his head in his hands. Bobby still didn't say a word, just poured him another glass.

Silence settled over the two while Bobby patiently waited until Sam was ready to talk again. "I just feel so useless. Everything he's done for me over the years, helped me whenever he could, even if I told him not to and now, the one time something serious happens to him and I can't do a thing." He let his hands fall atop the table and looked Bobby straight in the eye. "This is my fault. If I hadn't been so occupied by the ritual, if I had just glanced back towards him I would have seen him leaving and none of this would have happened."

Bobby pulled out a chair and moved it over so he was sitting right next to Sam. "Come on, Sam, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault, I told you so already. If he got caught in her spell there wouldn't have been a lot you could've done anyway."

"I could've tried, Bobby. I should've." Sam dropped his gaze to the table and took a sip of his whiskey. Bobby sat with him for a while longer, sipping his own whiskey as silence settled over the kitchen once again. When his glass was empty he placed a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed it a bit before standing up and grabbing Dean's bag.

They usually had about three bags between them, one for Sam, one for Dean and one for all sorts of things that didn't really belong to either of them. Bobby had seen them carry their own bags in enough times to know which one was whose. With one last look at Sam he entered the hallway and made his way up the stairs. When he got to Dean's room he saw that the door was slightly ajar. Not wanting to disturb him too much Bobby peeked inside before bringing up his hands to knock. When his knuckles were just about to make contact with the wood he remembered and let his hand fall down.

Dean was just sitting on his bed, cross-legged and motionless as he stared out the window. 'Damn those boys', he thought as he placed the bag at the foot of the bed. Sam blaming himself despite the fact that it wasn't his fault and the millions of times Dean had told him not to worry about him, to just focus on what he was doing because he could take care of himself.

And then there was Dean, he didn't even have to talk to him, his behaviour and what Sam had told him were enough for Bobby to at least guess what he was thinking. Blaming himself most likely, blaming himself for being so stupid as to let the banshee weave her spell around him as well as the what if. What if the banshee hadn't gotten to him first, what if she had gotten Sam, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Lastly there was the possibility he would never hunt again. As a hunter you had to be completely sure you could rely on your hearing. Sound could give away positions, could betray an illusion or reveal ones true intentions and face. Perfect hearing was essential, and without it he was useless. He could neither hunt nor protect his little brother, what else was left for him?

Halfway down the stairs Bobby let out a deep breath and sank down on the steps. Usually when something happened they would be able to work around it, find a solution, take care of it and go on, but not this time. Nothing they knew off could cure deafness. This was a whole different kind of problem, one they had no experience with. He had to keep faith, though. If not for himself then at least for Sam and Dean.

He knew he'd do whatever he could to help them through this. It certainly wouldn't be easy, but when was anything ever? He dreaded having to tell Sam he hadn't been able to find anything in his books. He still had some left to look through but he didn't think he'd find anything. He had looked through every book he owned that dealt with banshees, Irish, Scottish and Gaelic mythology, no book sealing with spirits, omens, fairies and gods had been left untouched. He did have a theory but it wouldn't do anything for Dean so it was meagre at best.

After a bit Bobby pulled himself back up with a little help of the bannister. Best to get it over with as quick as possible so they could all focus on dealing with this.

Sam was still sitting where he had left him, the only difference his now empty glass. He looked up for just a moment when Bobby sat himself back down next to him. "Sam, I-"

"You didn't find anything, did you?" Sam interrupted him, gaze focussed on a blackbird sitting atop one of the many cars outside.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I really wished I could tell you I came across a simple way to restore Dean's hearing. If it's any consolidation, I think I have a theory about why that banshee screamed when you killed her."

Sam's eyes followed the blackbird's movements as it took wing until he couldn't see it anymore and turnedg towards Bobby. "So do I. According to a lot of local lore that particular banshee was never tied to a certain family, she just appeared, and her cries, well, it's said that they predicted her own death. I guess it's plausible, I mean, there were people who claimed they had seen her, but no one had ever actually heard her, nor had there ever been any disappearances until right before we went and banished her."

Bobby just nodded when Sam stopped talking. "Seems like we both reached the same conclusion."

Sam hummed softly under his breath, barely audible, "Guess we did." Bobby stood up and grabbed both Sam's empty glass and his own which he had left there when he went upstairs and placed them inside the sink.

"Come on," Bobby said when he placed his own chair back in its original place. "Want to help me reorganize the library? It's kind of a mess right now." For the first time since his arrival Sam actually focussed on his surroundings and looked at the library. It was indeed a mess. Half of the shelves were either empty or the books had fallen over while the room itself was absolutely covered with books in all sorts of states, open, closed, stuffed with pieced of paper.

"Yeah, I'd like that." He said, welcoming the distraction.

oo00oo00oo

The next few days were spent getting used to the changed circumstances and how to keep everything as normal as possible without letting Dean notice they were going out of their way for him. It was hard, though, and towards the end of it both Sam and Bobby were walking on eggshells whenever they were with Dean. The littlest thing could set him off and most of his time was spent either sitting on the porch, staring at nothing, locking himself up in his room or working on the Impala.

Bobby had pulled out a stack of old, almost forgotten notebooks which they had placed around the house so if they had to ask or say something to Dean they wouldn't have to run off first in search of paper. At first he would simply answer as usual, maybe a little less elaborate than before but still talk a lot. As the days passed he seemed to just collapse into himself even further as he drastically spoke less and less every day. By the end of the week he'd just shrug, nod, shake his head, grunt or something along those lines. He only ever really said anything if there was no other way, and even then he would sometimes just write it down underneath the original question or sentence.

Both Sam and Bobby tried their best but it was all for nought. Dean had tried watching some tv for the first few days with the subtitles but it just seemed to frustrate him. Even Bobby would just turn on the subtitles as soon as he turned on the tv so Dean wouldn't have to ask. Now he barely watched any tv anymore.

That was what seemed to be the problem, both Sam and Bobby were pretty certain of it. Dean had always taken pride in his ability to fend for both himself and Sam, and now that pride had been dented rather severely. They both wanted to do anything they could to help, though, but Dean just turned away.

It wasn't that he didn't want any help from them, he just didn't want any help whatsoever, from anyone. Sam had seen it before to a lesser extent after some heavy cases that had seemed to really affect Dean. He'd isolate himself and just will and drink the problem away. In those cases, Sam let him, Dean could afford to act like that. After a bit he would have dealt or at least have buried it deep enough for it not to really affect him anymore. This case was different, the silence would always be there as a cruel reminder, making him unable to forget, at least in Dean's eyes.

As the days went by Dean became more and more reclusive and Sam and Bobby's worries grew. It was especially noticeable on days when Bobby was manning the phones or Sam was assisting him with some research. He'd be grumpy all day long while trying his best to ignore them.

The only positive thing was that Dean had completely recovered from his concussion. Sam made sure to check the amount of painkillers everyday so he would know how Dean was doing without outright asking him. The bottle had been untouched for a few days now so at least that wasn't going to give them any trouble anymore. Small as the chances may be, Sam was hoping that maybe because he was feeling better and not doped up on painkillers anymore Dean would lighten up a bit.

Nothing was less true, if anything, Dean became even more reclusive, locking himself into his room all day long and only coming out to get something to eat.

"We need to find a way to help him, the way he's handling this, it isn't healthy." Bobby said after it had been going on for about three days. He and Sam were both leafing through some of his books, trying to find some information for a hunter who had stumbled upon a rather strange case, even for a life-long hunter. Sam sighed and put down his book. "I know, Bobby, I know, but how. If you have any idea about how we can help Dean, even an inkling, I'd be thrilled to hear it." Bobby diverted his gaze towards the wall and stared at the wallpaper for a bit before softly muttering. "Maybe the two of you should leave, find another place you can stay for as long as he needs."

"You want us out of here? I thought you wanted to help!" Sam sat up straighter as he said this, staring at Bobby, hard.

"No, not like that." The older hunter said, putting down his own book before readjusting his cap. "It's just, me, this house, helping the other guys out, he's surrounded by hunters and hunting and he can't do a thing. It must be hard on him, like rubbing it in that he can never really be a part of this world anymore."

"Oh." Sam slumped back in his chair. He'd never really thought of that, but it seemed logical. There wasn't really much Dean could do around here without encountering anything hunting related. "So basically, what you're suggesting is we find a place that has absolutely nothing to do with hunting and stay there for a while." Bobby nods at that.

"Maybe then, after he's had time to adjust and accept that he'll never really hunt again you guys can come back here."

"Hmmm." Sam ran his fingers through his hair as he pushed the chair back on its hind legs. "Maybe you're right."

Both went back to their research after that, the only words exchanged to do with the books they were leafing through. Bobby didn't really want to push the subject. He just wanted to propose it to Sam, not make it seem like he wanted them out. At the same time it had opened up a whole new way of thinking for Sam, one that might have re-ignited that small spark at the end of the tunnel. It may not be much, and he'd have to think long and hard about it, consider all possibilities and then there would be the grand task of convincing Dean, but compared to the hopeless darkness before, that one small spark seemed like the brightest light Sam had encountered in a while.

oo00oo00oo

Both Bobby and Sam had tried talking to Dean but every time it ended up with them getting shouted at. Those were really the only times they heard Dean's voice, when he was angry and shouting at them, and with each passing day he seemed to get more and more on edge.

Sam had been actively thinking about what Bobby told him and yet without having made any actual decisions, whenever he was on his laptop, he seemed to always end up looking for possible places for him and Dean to live. It didn't have to be much, it was only temporarily after all, and he didn't want it to be too close to Bobby's house but not too far away either in case they should ever need him.

Sam didn't really much care what it looked like or anything, except for one thing. It couldn't be in or too close to a village or city. Close enough that it wouldn't be too big of a hassle to get everything they would need but far enough that they wouldn't be bothered by anyone or anything. If Dean didn't even really want him or Bobby around, he certainly wouldn't want a bunch of strangers.

It was a morning at the beginning of the third week that Sam started to think something more had been going on with Dean. Bobby was out since Sam saw that both him and his car were gone. Bobby was always the first one up and one of the first things he always did was make a big pot of coffee. With no actual cases to go out on and investigate Sam took the opportunity to sleep just a little longer than he usually did when on cases with Dean.

Since he had slept in a little longer than he usually did Sam was fully expecting Dean to be up and eating some breakfast. Those were really the only times they ever saw him, when he either came down to eat or if they caught him passing through to work on some of the cars. To Sam's surprise Dean wasn't seated at the kitchen table. The only things he saw were the pot of coffee and Bobby's dishes in the sink. Whenever Dean made breakfast he'd usually leave whatever he used open and on the counter, but there was nothing to imply he had been in the kitchen

Dean was a big eater and whenever he had to go without breakfast he was always a little grumpy and constantly complaining about how hungry he was. Most of the time he really just did it to rile Sam up but if he could he'd never skip breakfast. That was the first thing that set off the feeling of dread pooling in Sam's stomach. He quickly poured himself a cup of coffee before he started to scour the house.

The frown on Sam's face deepened as he seemed unable to find Dean. When he finally walked outside through the backdoor he almost dropped his cup. The Impala was gone. Since it had been dry for quite a while Sam could see the tire marks leading towards the gate.

Not caring that he spilled half his coffee as he turned around Sam abandoned the cup outside before racing inside. Once upstairs he didn't even bother with knocking, he just barged into Dean's room only to freeze in place. Several newspaper clippings were pinned to the walls, some with additional information, some crossed through with either red or black pen. "No no no no no no, Dean, oh god, please tell me you didn't" As he walked over towards the wall to study the clippings he cursed both himself and Dean. "Of course you did. I should've known. FUCKING IDIOT!"

Bobby had arrived back home right as Sam had run back inside. "Sam?" He yelled while closing the door behind him as he heard him shout. "Sam?" When he heard something crash onto the floor Bobby dropped his bags in the entryway and hurried upstairs. Seeing the open door to Dean's room and hearing the noises coming from inside it he approached carefully. "Sam, you okay?" He asked as he poked his head into the room. Sam turned around, looking like he was about to lash out and fire in his eyes before he sunk through his knees. "Dammit, Sam." Bobby shouted as he rushed towards him.

It was only after he had made sure Sam was alright that Bobby noticed the walls. Looking it all over his eyes widened. "Balls!" Sam managed to get himself together with the help of some very deep breaths before looking at Bobby, fear in his eyes. "He's going to get himself killed. We need to stop him." Bobby nodded at that before walking over towards the wall to inspect the clippings, mumbling as he did so. Sam couldn't understand what he was saying but he had a pretty good idea.

There seemed to be four individual cases. One barely had any information. The article was crossed out but underneath it was a note reading _Witch?_ But then underneath that hung another newspaper clipping saying they arrested the murderer, a regular guy with some rather freaky interests. The other two that were crossed through had more information but were quite a bit farther away than that first possible case. The information wasn't exactly consistent with one specific creature or at least it wasn't enough info to reach a conclusion without going out and interviewing witnesses.

The fourth and last article was the only one that hadn't been crossed out and all information was pretty consistent. In the middle of all those pieces of paper Dean had stuck a note with _RUGARU! _on it. Apparently a single mom and two of her three daughters had been killed in a rather violent way. The police seemed to think it was wild animals as all three bodies were partially eaten.

Of the third and eldest daughter was no sign. Neighbours, family nor friends knew where she was. Surrounding it were three more articles of people in the same town who had been killed pretty much the same way. The victims all seemed to be linked to the family and no wild animals big enough to do such damage or even rabid dogs had been found in the general vicinity of the town. It was close enough that Dean could easily hunt the creature down and be back the same day.

It was a pretty easy hunt for someone like Dean, but not in his current condition. Bobby started pulling down all the information related to that case as he said to Sam, "Get dressed. We're gonna save that idjit from being his own downfall even if I have to knock him down and drag him all the way back by his ears."

Sam stood idle for a moment before rushing out of the room and towards his. Five minutes later Sam come down the stairs and went outside to where he could hear Bobby load up his car. When Bobby spotted him he slammed down the trunk and motioned for Sam to get inside before walking over to the driver's side and getting in himself.

Once they were both inside Bobby reached behind him and gave Sam all the pieces of paper that had hung on Dean's wall and were related to this case. "See if you can find out anything more. The sooner we find him the better." After that Bobby started the engine and tore out of the driveway. Sam wasn't sure but he thought he heard him mutter, "If that idjit managed to get himself killed I will find a demon free way of bringing him back so I can kill him myself."

As they drove Sam poured over the pieces of paper, running even the tiniest detail through his mind over and over again. The ride was silent and Bobby had on a constant frown that was only half-visible under his cap.

As he studied Dean's notes Sam was a little confused about why he suspected the eldest daughter to be the rugaru. They only fed on human flesh, not their own and even so, wouldn't the mother have been able to control her? All started to make sense when he came upon an article that had a picture of the entire family. It mentioned the bad luck of the family as the husband had apparently died not two months prior.

In the picture both the husband and wife and younger kids were blond and had pale eyes, the eldest daughter however, had thick dark hair and dark eyes. Sam had no idea if she was the daughter of a former husband or what, the article didn't mention it, but he started to see what he thought Dean must have seen.

About two hours later they arrived in the small village. It was so utterly tiny that they didn't even bother asking directions, a few minutes of driving around and they had seen all of it, including the houses that had been set off with police tape.

Bobby parked the car down the road, far enough away from the taped off houses so as not to seem suspicious. All houses on the street were sort of clumped together leaving the rest bare except for one older house which seemed to be in the process of restoration almost all the way down towards the other end.

Right when Sam and Bobby were about to circle around the houses to hopefully enter them unnoticed from the back they heard a loud crash followed by a lot of clattering and two shouting voices. One female and the other, immediately recognized by Sam, Dean's. Sam threw open the trunk and grabbed the two blow torches, handing one to Bobby before grabbing his gun and stuffing it in the back of his pants.

With that done he ran towards the lone house and circled around it, as he was fairly certain the noise had come from the backyard. Luckily there wasn't any real fencing so he just ran in. When he finally rounded the house he saw the scattered wooden garden furniture, still half covered with tarps and plastic, as well as a giant knocked town stack of bricks. From his position Sam gathered that the Rugaru must have slammed Dean through the pile of bricks and against the furniture. Part of a heavy wooden bench lay over his legs, immobilizing him as the rugaru closed in on him, teeth bared.

Dean didn't really seem to grasp what was going on, probably still dazed from knocking into a bunch of bricks and garden furniture. "HEY!" Sam shouted, directing the rugaru's attention towards himself if only for a moment. It was enough for him to take aim and hit her right in the head with one of the scattered bricks.

She fell off Dean and lay still for a moment before trying to get herself up against, dazed and bleeding from a head wound. Dean's head had cleared a little and as he finally managed to take in what was happening he quickly started to try and get the heavy wooden bench of off his legs. He managed to move it a tiny bit but that immediately cause him to stifle a shout when it sent a bolt of pain through his leg.

The rugaru was now completely focussed on Sam and once she got up again charged right at him. This was what he had been hoping for and as soon as she was close enough he ignited the torch. She let out a long and pained howling sound as she managed to take two more steps in Sam's direction before collapsing.

When Sam turned around he saw Bobby had already run over towards Dean and was busy trying to remove the bench from on his legs. It was full wood, though, and rather large at that as well so Sam hurried over and together they managed to pull it off. Seeing the rather large bloodstain on it they then moved it over to the still burning corpse in an attempt to both hide the remains as get rid of the blood.

Dean lay groaning on the ground, arms outstretched and eyes closed when Sam got back to him. His clothes were torn in several places and through the gaps Sam could see smears of blood. By tonight he'd probably be completely covered in bruises. His leg seemed to be the worst. His left pants leg was torn to the knee and what was visible seemed to be one bloody mess.

Sam took off his jacket and shirt before putting the jacket back on and pressing the shirt against Dean's leg. Dean's eyes sprung open and he hissed rather loudly as he lifted his upper body a little in surprise. This just caused him to groan again so Sam gently placed his hand atop his chest to push him back down while shaking his head.

Bobby had gone off to get the car and drive it up so it was just that bit closer. When Sam got up Dean looked in the direction he was looking. When he felt Sam attempting to slip his arms underneath him he pushed him away before trying to get up on his own. Messed up leg and whatnot, he could get himself to a car, thank you very much.

As soon as he even as much as attempted to get up, not even putting any really pressure or anything on his leg he started hissing again and would have slammed back into the ground were it not for Sam's strong arms catching him. He huffed as he was lifted up into the air, but secretly, not that he would ever admit it, not even to himself, he liked the feeling of being held so close to Sam's broad chest, the sense of security it provided. Of course, as soon as Sam put him into the car he scooted out of his arms and towards the other end of the backseat.

Sam climbed into the backseat as well to keep an eye on Dean and once he was inside Bobby started to drive. Sam made sure to keep his shirt to Dean's leg and apply pressure until it seemed to have at least lessened the bleeding before he took a peek. It looked worse than it was, really, just a flesh wound. No bones appeared to be either broken or bruised, just an ugly tear from just above his ankle to his knee. He could see some muscle on the deeper parts of the cut but nothing they couldn't handle. After he reapplied the shirt he noticed Dean clutching his left hand.

Without any warning Sam just grabbed it and started to feel it, applying pressure on several spots. Dean squirmed and hissed as Sam ran his fingers over his wrist, hand and underarm. For a moment he feared something might be broken but it seemed to be just a bruised bone. They didn't really have that much space in the backseat of the car and Sam was going to look Dean over completely once they got back to Bobby's house but it didn't seem like anything they wouldn't be able to fix themselves.

The ride back was silent, a few looks were exchanged but nothing more. Once they got to the house Sam was ready to carry Dean inside so he could look him over. At that, Dean made it very clear he wasn't some bitch-ass damsel in distress and insisted he could walk there himself. As it turned out, he couldn't. In the end Dean managed to get inside by hopping on his good leg while awkwardly leaning on a half-crouched Sam. It was slow and awkward but a lot less insulting to his already dented pride.

Once Sam got him seated at the kitchen table Bobby went to find everything they would need to stitch Dean's leg back together. When he returned he handed everything to Sam who had already started cleaning the wound with some warm water and clean rags. After that Bobby dug into one of the kitchen cabinets, taking out a glass and a bottle of whiskey.

Sitting himself down at the other end of the table he poured Dean a healthy glass and shoved it towards him. Dean started at the glass for a moment, wincing as Sam got to the deepest part of the wound, and just reached for the bottle. Putting it to his lips he drank long and deep before letting out a sigh and sinking just a little bit deeper in his chair.

As much good as the alcohol had done while Sam was cleaning out the wound, Dean still had to bite his teeth and clench his fingers on both the table and his chair, knuckles white, as Sam poured disinfectant over it. His forehead shone with sweat by the time Sam was threading the thick needle. The burn from the disinfectant had started to fade a little but he still hissed a little every time the needle pierced his skin.

"There, all done." Sam said after he finished tying up the threat and cut off the remaining end. He lifted Dean's leg as gently as he could before moving off the chair and placing Dean's leg on it. He also removed his shirt from under Dean's leg. It had already been ruined so he had put it under Dean's leg so it would catch whatever blood would trickle down while he was sewing it up. He quickly used it to wipe away some of the blood that had run down before pouring some more disinfectant on a clean cloth and wiping the now stitched up wound with it. Both his shirt and the rags he threw in the garbage before putting everything else away. Bobby had just poured himself a new glass of whiskey so Sam grabbed it before he could.

After he downed it he motioned for Bobby to come join him in the library. Sure, Dean wouldn't hear them anyway, but old habits die hard, and Dean would probably pissed about them talking about him while standing right next to him. Once they stood in front of each other Bobby let loose. Sam let him rage a little, waited for him to calm down at least a bit before he spoke up. "I know, Bobby, I know. Point is, we should've seen this coming."

Bobby let out a sigh and readjusted his cap. "You're right. This is Dean we're talking about, after all. We can't have something like this happen again."

"Agreed." Sam said. "You know, what you said to me about getting Dean out of here. I've been thinking about it and I think you're right, now more than ever. I've been looking into it and I may have found a few possible places."

Bobby nodded slowly. "It'll be for the best. You keep looking into that, and if you need any help or anything, just say so. Meanwhile, we'll have to make sure Dean doesn't plan on another one of these hunts. Might be best if we try and keep him downstairs with us as much as possible, and we should check his room regularly, make sure he ain't collecting news clippings again."

When Sam looked over towards Dean he felt a sense of sadness overcome him. The fact that he had to take away the only thing Dean ever thought he could do pained him. Sam knew Dean saw it as his personal duty to save everyone he could, that he had to carry the weight of as many people's lives as he could protect, even more, and to him, hunting was the only way to do so.

That may not be the case, at least not in Sam's eyes, Dean was so much more than just a hunter, if only he could see that in himself. Sam let out a sigh as he followed Dean's gaze out of the window. Maybe he could let him see now that they wouldn't be hunting anymore, and no, Sam wouldn't hunt anymore. He either hunted alongside Dean or not at all, the only exception being if there was revenge to be had, but the banshee was dead and Dean alive.

It would be hard, most likely, and take a good long while for them to get used to a regular life, or at least as regular as it could get with so much knowledge on what crawled hidden in the shadows. Neither of them had ever lived a regular life, not even Sam when he had been at Stanford. Despite the fact that it was him who had run away he worried about Dean and maybe even his dad, but only really because of how much he knew Dean needed him.

Even there, surrounded by blissfully unaware people he had been on the lookout for anything unusual. He never acted on it, just wanted to make sure nothing ever came too close to his new, regular life, his friends and Jess.

Now, now they would have to try and forget everything they knew, at least for a while. Sam had no idea how Dean might possibly react to that, how he would handle it in the long term. There was one thing he did know, though, and that was that he would always be there, would do whatever it took to keep his brother safe.

Dean didn't really say much for the rest of the day, he mostly just sat on the couch watching the cooking channel. This at least gave Sam and Bobby the opportunity to go up to his room and take down everything even remotely related to hunting. They checked the entire room, even under some loose floorboards just to make sure Dean wouldn't be able to pull another secret hunt while they stayed here.

It wasn't until pretty late in the afternoon that Sam grabbed one of the many notebooks lying around as well as a pen and some beers and sat himself on the couch beside Dean. Dean accepted the offered bottle but didn't open it, instead he just twisted it in his hands while he avoided looking Sam in the eyes.

Sam was about to start writing but Dean placed his hand on his while looking up briefly before averting his gaze again. "I'm sorry. I just … I don't know what to do. I just want everything to be back to normal. That's what I wanted to show you guys, that I could still do it and you didn't have to baby me just because I'm deaf." His voice faltered on those last few words and he quickly wiped his eye, hoping Sam hadn't seen it.

"Dean." Sam said, turning his hand over under Dean's so he could grab his.

With his free hand he started to write. _"It's okay, Dean. We'll work this out, we'll find a way. We always do, don't we, it's kind of our thing."_ That got a small but sad smile from Dean who just shrugged.

"I don't know, Sammy. Maybe this time's the exception." Sam squeezed Dean's hand a little as he could see the tears gleam in his eyes.

"_We will, I promise. After all the things you've done for me it's finally my turn to help you. You just have to let me, okay? I can't help you if you keep turning away." _Dean sighed as he turned up his gaze to look Sam in the face.

"It's just hard, you know. I just feel so useless, like I'll never be able to do anything again, and then, seeing you and Bobby. I can't even do that." Dean slipped his hand out of Sam's and turned around so he was facing the wall.

Sam looked at him as he tried to wipe away his tears as discretely as possible. It hurt him to see Dean like this. After a few more moments he picked up the pen again and started to write. _"Bobby said it might be better if we stayed someplace that had absolutely nothing to do with hunting. I agree with him. I may have found a few possible places. I'd like to go and have a look at them in person, you can come if you want but you don't have to, and then, when you're leg has healed enough we could move in." _

Sam gently tapped Dean on the shoulder before handing him the notepad. "Just move some place?" He lowered the notepad onto his lap and stared down at his toes. "I don't know, Sam. You might've forgotten, but we don't actually know how to live a normal life, well, I don't. I mean, you had Stanford, okay." He shrugged and kicked his feet for a moment before continuing. "I don't think it would make that much of a difference. I'd still be deaf and useless. Also, I couldn't do that to you. Force you to look after me like that while you could be out and hunting."

Sam quickly grabbed the notepad back after this. _"Dean, you're not forcing me to do anything. I want to help, more than anything. I wouldn't be able to hunt anyway, knowing you're just somewhere alone feeling miserable. I either hunt with you by my side or not at all." _Sam shifted the notepad a bit on his lap so Dean could start reading already while he kept writing. _"Sure, we may have never really known regular life, but we could try. If it doesn't work than it doesn't, but at least give it a chance. Let me try. Let me try and help you like you've done so many times for me. You went to Hell for me, Dean. There's no way I'll ever be able to repay that, so at least allow we to do this for you."_

Sam looked up at Dean, clenching the pen as he hoped he would understand. For a moment Dean did nothing, just stared blankly at the paper before launching himself towards Sam and enveloping him in a hug. "I will," He whispered in Sam's ear. "I will let you do this." Sam smiled as he wrapped his own arms around Dean's back and felt a tear of his own roll down his cheek.

"Thank you." He murmured. Even if Dean didn't think it would work Sam still felt like he had accomplished something. It wasn't going to be easy but Sam felt sure that in time he would be able to let Dean see that being deaf isn't the end of him.


	4. The Beginning of a New Life

The next few days were spent in relative peace and quiet. Both Sam and Bobby made an effort not to flaunt anything hunting related in Dean's face even if that wasn't their intention. Hunting had just been such a big part of their lives for so long that it was just second nature.

Both of them also made an effort to keep an eye on Dean and make sure to involve him in the things they were doing as much as he was able. Dean still didn't say much but he seemed a little less morose, at least in Sam's opinion. He tried to stay out of the library if there wasn't any real need for him to be there. Bobby even appointed him some cars that he could do with whatever the hell he liked with.

What with Dean's hunt gone wrong and the mindfulness not to say anything that might upset him Bobby got a little antsy. He never said anything, but Sam noticed it because he had already completely rearranged the entire library three times. During those free moments Sam got behind his laptop and continued his search for a place that would be perfect for him and Dean.

He had eventually managed to narrow it down to two possible places. They were each about four to five hours away from Bobby's and pretty secluded while still within acceptable walking distance of the nearest town. The second one he had stumbled upon by chance but it was the one he liked best. He had told Dean he had found a few possible places and if he maybe wanted to either come with him when he went to check them out or wanted to see the pictures. Dean had just waved him away, said he trusted Sam to find something. Sam would have really wanted Dean to at least look at the pictures but he didn't let it bother him too much.

That same day he phoned the real estate agent who informed him the house was still up for sale. Together they decided on a time for him to meet her at the house so she could show him around. This made Sam very happy and when it was all done he went in search of Bobby to tell him.

The next morning Sam woke up a little earlier than usual so he could make the drive to go see the house. He had asked to go see it pretty early because he wanted to be back before dark. He never really liked driving at night. He did it when he had to of course, when they were on a case and had a really long drive and he was relieving Dean, but usually, driving at night was Dean's thing. He really liked it. The calmness of the night, the often deserted, or almost deserted roads. He had once even said that it gave him a sort of serenity he couldn't quite get any other way, just driving along the empty roads in his baby, Sam by his side.

After he ate Sam took a quick shower before getting dressed. Since Dean wasn't coming with him he thought it best not to take the Impala. Bobby had offered up his Chevelle since he probably wouldn't need it, and even then, he had a whole yard full of cars, including some that would be more than adequate to get him to town should he need something.

For the first time in a long while, maybe ever, Sam actually enjoyed the drive. Usually long drives caused him at least a certain amount of stress because there was always the possibility of another victim being made in the time it took them to get to wherever the case was. The fact that at the end of this drive there may lay a solution caused him to relax behind the wheel.

The only thing that would have made the drive more enjoyable would be if Dean had been next to him. No real pressure, just talking about nothing in particular as the asphalt stretched on in front of them. They would fight about Dean's outdated music choices or he'd complain that he was hungry and wanted to stop somewhere.

It gave Sam some time alone with his thoughts, though. For once he wasn't thinking about how their lives would change for the worse. About how they'd both have to find a new purpose in life and Dean distancing himself from everyone and everything. He thought about what he could do to help Dean without him really realizing. Sam would have to be sneaky, something that probably wouldn't be too much of a problem, he had after all, learned from the best. The plan he came up with was a long-term one, but in the end, it would be worth it.

oo00oo00oo

It was pretty late when Sam returned and both Bobby and Dean had eaten already. As nice as the drive had been, Sam was absolutely exhausted. Ten hours in an enclosed space would do that to you. Sure, he was used to driving around a lot, but then Dean drove the majority of the time. Because he knew he would he exhausted after he got back he had taken his time after he arrived.

First stop was of course the house. The real estate agent had been waiting for him and then continued to talk to him about every single detail of both the house itself and its history. Once the tour was over Sam had though he would be free from her endless chatter but she was only getting started. She then told him all about the area and the history of the nearest town. When she had finally run out of stories and left, Sam drove over towards the town to treat himself to a nice, albeit late, lunch.

Once inside the house Sam dropped Bobby's keys on the nearest flat surface as he made his way over into the library and flopped face down on the couch. Bobby looked up from where he was working at his desk, raising an eyebrow before putting the book and pen he was holding down. "Saved you some dinner." Bobby finally said. "It's in the fridge."

Sam didn't look up, just raised his arm and gave Bobby a thumbs up. "Thanks." Bobby looked at Sam for a moment longer before putting his arms down on the desk and leaning on them just a bit. "

So, how was it? You decided to get the house?"

"She wouldn't stop talking." Sam mumbled from where he had pressed his face in the pillow.

"She?"

Sam lifted a hand and waved it around a bit. "The real estate agent. She had a story for every nook and cranny." Bobby chuckled.

"Better you than me." Sam hummed in agreement before pulling his arms underneath him and pushing his upper body up from the couch.

"I now own a house, though." He said, grin on his face. Bobby couldn't repress his own tiny smile.

"Great. Now eat your food before I give it to Dean and you can go tell him."

Sam let himself fall down on the couch again for a few more minutes before getting up and walking into the kitchen. He took his plate from the fridge and popped it into the microwave. He was absolutely famished and on his way back he had considered stopping to eat something several times but always decided against it.

Once the microwave beeped he quickly took out his plate and began to eat. While he usually made sure to eat at a moderate pace and to chew everything instead of inhaling his food like Dean did, Sam for once didn't care. After he was done shovelling food into his mouth he rinsed his dishes before opening up the fridge again to see what else was in there.

After a scanning all the shelves he took out some sliced of cheese and searched the pantry for some bread before putting it all together with a thin layer of mayonnaise. Eating his sandwich Sam exited the kitchen and made his way up to Dean's room.

For a moment Sam panicked as Dean wasn't in his room. He was about to enter through the open door when he noticed something from the corner of his eye. Dean was in the habit of always leaving his door open or at least halfway whenever they stayed at Bobby's, except for when he had been looking himself in that was, but Sam always closed his door whenever he wasn't in his room.

Right now, however, the door was wide open. Folding his eyebrows in just a little bit Sam made his way over to his room. For a moment he just looked inside before a small smile made its way up his face.

Sam had a small wooden trunk at the end of his bed which he always kept locked and hadn't actually opened in years. It contained all the books and novels Sam had acquired in his youth. Some he had bought of his own money, others had been birthday presents from either Bobby or Dean. Those books and stories had been a sanctuary to him before he knew what it was John did and was training Dean to do. They had given him homes for all those years he never had one and had then later become an escape from reality for him. Nothing like a happy ending to take your mind off of the latest bloody, gruesome case.

He had left the books when he went to study at Stanford. He had thought that, now that he would finally be able to try and have a normal life he wouldn't need them anymore. When he ended up hunting again he considered unlocking the trunk several times but never actually did. Now the trunk was open and several books lay scattered in front of it.

With that smile still in place Sam went back downstairs and exited through the backdoor. Just as he expected he spotted a faint light from inside the Impala, same as all those years ago.

Every now and then, when he thought no one was looking Dean would dig through the trunk whenever they were at Bobby's and hide out inside one of the many cars. Sam had teased him about it once or twice but usually acted like he had no idea Dean was doing it.

Dean had always called him a geek for getting good grades and liking the kinds of books he liked, but secretly, Dean adored them as well. No one was allowed to know that, though. After all, Dean had to maintain his image of the strong and manly big brother, not some fantasy loving nerd. And thus Sam never said a thing about Dean sneaking out with his books. In fact he thought it was completely adorable.

Over the course of the years Sam had watched him read several times without Dean knowing. The look of utter concentration on his face, the way his expressions would change along with the events in the book had always made Sam's chest tighten a little. For a bit he would forget about all the weight John had put on his shoulders and his responsibility towards Sam and just enjoy something for the sake of it.

Sam walked over towards the Impala and his smile widened just a little when he saw Dean curled up underneath a patchwork blanket on the backseat. For several minutes Sam just looked at Dean before he started to regret not putting on his coat and the evening chill forced him to slip into the passenger seat. Dean startled and quickly slammed the book closed before hiding it underneath the blanket. Dean actually blushed and tried to shy away from Sam's gaze. He looked as if he had been caught doing something scandalous. Sam thought it was completely adorable and just smiled. When Dean seemed to realize Sam wasn't going to tease or scold him he finally looked up.

Sam took that as his cue and took the folded piece of paper out of his pants pocket and handed it over. Dean just looked at him for a moment before slowly unfolding it and reading the words Sam had already written inside. _"We have a house." _

"We do?" Dean asked as he kept staring at the page. He wasn't really sold on the idea of just quitting their current lives and go live somewhere just yet. Both Sam and Bobby had told him that it was for the best, that it would help him adjust but he still wasn't sure if it would make that much of a difference. The only reason he had actually agreed was because both Sam and Bobby believed in it so badly. Even then, what difference would it make whether he stayed here or somewhere else.

Sam nodded before taking back the piece of paper and taking the pen from where he had clipped it to his shirt. _"It's a bit old fashioned and it needs some work but it's perfect. It's a small, stone cottage style house. It's a little way inside the woods so it's pretty much hidden and there's a small town within walking distance, about ten minutes. You won't have to deal with people or anything if you don't want to and I can find a job in town without having to drive for hours every day." _

Dean tried to come up with an image of the house in his head but wasn't really able to do so. He didn't really much care for what the house looked like but Sam seemed so excited that he smiled at him and said: "That's great, Sammy." The only thing that seemed of interest was that apparently, the house needed some work. At least that meant he would be able to do something. He had already been dreading having absolutely nothing to do, much like now, and it was getting on his nerves. He wasn't much for doing nothing and it made him feel useless.

By the time Dean managed to focus back on Sam he was writing again, the paper wrinkling as he laid it on his thigh to have at least a semi-flat surface to write on. _"Have you got any preferences as to when you want to move in? The house is fully furnished so we can move out tomorrow if you want. Unless you want to stay here a little longer, of course."_ Dean couldn't help but chuckle a little. Sam was as awkward in his writing as he would have been asking Dean directly.

Dean could see that Sam was excited, and sure, how could he not be. He was the one who had always dreamt of a normal life. Owning a house, having a normal job, stuff like that, and now he would finally have that, in a way. Dean was pretty sure Sam had probably never imagined it quite like this, owning a house only to go live in it with his deaf brother. It seemed to be enough for Sam, though. Maybe no gorgeous wife and some cute kids, but he at least had the house, a home, and who knows, if he was to work in the small town nearby, who was to say he wouldn't meet someone there.

Despite the fact that that thought had first brought the barest hint of a smile to his face, it made it disappear just as quickly when Dean realized that that meant he would be left alone. He would never hunt again and if Sam were to move in with some sweet girl and have a family what else was there left for him. Without hunting or Sam to take care of, who was he. Those were the only things he had ever known, had ever done.

"Dean?" Sam said, frown in place as he waved a hand in front of Dean's face. This seemed to snap Dean out of it and he just stared at Sam blankly for a few moments before the wrinkled page was thrust into his face.

Having read it Dean smiled a small smile that didn't reach his eyes and said: "Whatever you want, Sammy. Whatever you want." This made Sam look at him strangely for a moment before he shrugged. He wanted nothing more than to ask what was on Dean's mind but knew better. He sat in the front seat awkwardly for a few moments longer before he opened the door and clambered out.

As he walked back over towards the house Sam really hoped he had done the right thing. It had certainly seemed so when he thought about it and Bobby agreed but the look on Dean's face really made him doubt himself. Although embarrassed, reading seemed to have put him in a rather good mood, better than the one he had been in for weeks, but the moment Sam had mentioned moving into the house his face had fallen and his eyes had gone hazy. Sometimes he really wanted nothing more than to get into Dean's head in an attempt just to figure out exactly what he was thinking.

That night Sam went to sleep still wondering if he had made the right choice. Dreams of all worst possible scenarios plaguing him as he tossed and turned.

oo00oo00oo

When Sam woke up that morning it was still dark out. At first he tried to go back to sleep or at least get some more rest but it wasn't happening. It was as if a thousand little insects were crawling under his skin, causing it to tingle in a most unpleasant way. Repressing a shudder and unable to lay still for much longer Sam pretty much jumped out of bed. The sensation didn't as much as fade so he quickly grabbed himself some clean clothes and made his way over to the bathroom to take a shower.

The warm water managed to get rid of the feeling but not for long. Almost as soon as Sam was dressed it returned. Not as severe as when he woke up but strong enough to make it impossible for him to sit still.

Not too long after he made it to the kitchen Sam found himself mixing up a bowl of pancake batter. He wasn't usually one for big breakfasts but he had to do something to occupy his mind and keep it from his tingling skin and the fact that today, him and Dean would be moving into a house of their own. They would officially leave everything hunting related behind them. As soon as Sam's mind wandered there the crawling sensation intensified. He poured the first pancake and while he waited he took out two more pans, several eggs, bacon and some leftover sausages.

When he was done there was more than enough food for the three of them and when he looked at his watch he realized it would probably be a while before Bobby and Dean woke up. Having turned on the oven on low Sam filled a plate for himself before placing the rest inside to keep it all warm.

After he finished eating he quickly did the dishes and put everything back in its place before writing a quick note saying breakfast was in the oven and put it in the middle of the table. With all that done Sam was a little lost as to what else he could do to keep himself occupied. For a while he just aimlessly wandered around the house, putting things back in place or straightening them out.

When he finally ended up back in his room he decided he could as well start packing already. Usually both him and Dean left their stuff in their bags, even when they were staying with Bobby. This time, though, what with everything going on Sam had actually used the furniture in his room that wasn't the bed. Digging up his duffle from the bottom of the closet Sam put it on top of the trunk at the foot of his bed. He took everything out of the closet, nightstand and the small drawer and threw it all in one big heap next to his bed.

After he made sure he had collected everything he started working through the pile. If it was a piece of clothing he would either straighten it out or button it up, fold it as neatly as he could and add it to the correct pile. Everything was divided according to what it was. Almost the entire bed was covered in stacks of shirts, jackets, t-shirts, long sleeves, pants, socks and underwear. His suit and small collection of ties lay all the way against the headboard and a blanket on the floor held all his weapons.

As he was sorting everything Sam could hear respectively Bobby and Dean getting up and heading downstairs. He'd stop and listen for a moment before continuing.

Once he got through all his clothes he put everything into his duffle as neatly as he could before sitting down next to the blanket, back resting against the bed. He cleaned every one of his guns thoroughly and efficiently just like Dean had taught him. He had a feeling that it would be a long time before he would handle any of them again. In a way it was a sort of goodbye, letting go of them. As much as he may have hated hunting at first, wanted nothing more than to get away from it, it now felt strange to let it go.

The usual reassuring pressure of a gun at the small of his back or Ruby's knife tucked away inside his coat pocket. After leaving Stanford with Dean and everything that followed after that, he had finally fully embraced hunting. It was something he had never really realized he had done, not until now, when he was saying goodbye to it all.

With everything packed and ready to go Sam was about to go check on Dean and tell him to pack as well when he thought of something. He rushed downstairs where he found Bobby sighing into one of his many phones. Sam waited for Bobby to hang up before calling out his name. "Oh, good morning, Sam." Bobby said as he turned around. "Great pancakes. I take it you were up pretty early. Nervous?

Sam shrugged a little. "Not really. Just didn't sleep that well, is all." Bobby looked Sam straight in the eye and raised an eyebrow. Sam rolled his eyes at that and sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. I am; it's like my skin's crawling. I just, I'm just worried what we'll do if this doesn't work, you know. I can't lose him, and definitely not to something like this." Sam let himself sag down into the nearest chair. "I'm just really scared of everything that could possibly go wrong. You know the kind of luck we always get, none at all."

Bobby walked over towards Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's gonna fall on deaf man's ears, pardon the expression," Bobby quickly added after he saw Sam scowling at him. "But try not to worry about something that you're not even sure is gonna happen. You think getting him away from everything is a good idea and so do I. Try to focus on that. Maybe the universe has finally decided to cut you two some slack. I mean, he could've died when that rugaru attacked him, but he didn't. Just, do what you can to keep that boy from being his own downfall. If anyone can do it it's you, Sam. If there's anything I'm certain of it's that."

Sam nodded at Bobby's words. "Thanks Bobby."

Bobby clapped Sam on the shoulder one more time before taking a step back. "So, you started packing already? I heard you two are leaving today." This made Sam remember why he had come down in the first place.

"About that. Do you maybe have a spare bag that I could use?" Bobby nodded.

"Sure, if you wait here for a second I'll go get it right away." With that Bobby disappeared out of the room.

Sam repeated Bobby's words inside his head as he waited. The fact that Bobby so strongly believed in him made Sam see his chances of helping Dean just a bit brighter. When everything went to shit, it really did make a world of difference to have even a single person believe in you, and maybe that was what Dean needed to realize as well, that despite his deafness people still believed in him.

When Bobby reappeared with the bag Sam quickly thanked him before heading back upstairs. Once there he opened up the trunk at the foot of his bed and started to transfer all his books to the bag.

Just when Sam zipped up the bag he heard a soft knock behind him. When he turned around he saw Dean standing in the doorway. Getting up Sam motioned for Dean to come in as he picked up the bag and placed it next to his other ones. Dean reached behind him and entered the room with his own which he placed next to Sam's before he grabbed the one bag they shared and kept all their weapons in. He opened up the zipper and put his gun inside, the only weapon he had left with him. After the whole rugaru thing Sam had taken all Dean's weapons out of his room and put them in the bag with his. Apparently Dean must have snuck in one day to retrieve his gun.

Sam didn't remark on it, though, just watched as Dean zipped the bag back up and put it down. Dean took a deep breath before turning around towards Sam and looking him straight in the eyes. To say the least, Sam was a little shocked at what he saw there; nervousness and even a hint of insecurity, Sam couldn't be completely certain because in that split second Dean had already pulled up his wall again. Sam decided not to mention that either. He got it, or at least up until a certain degree. This was unfamiliar territory to them, both of them.

With a little shake of his head Sam decided to dispel that train of thought. There was no telling how things would go once they moved into their home – god, it felt so foreign to Sam. Home, their home. They'd cross that bridge when they got there so best not to dwell on it for now.

Sam patted the bed a little so Dean knew to come over and sit down. He was still limping but his leg seemed to be healing as best as could be expected. No infections or anything else to complicate things, something Sam was very happy about. He got up from the bed and quickly made his way over towards the bathroom to get the things he needed while Dean took off his shoe and rolled up his pants leg.

When he got back Sam placed everything on the nightstand and placed Dean's leg in his lap. What he saw pleased him. The wound hadn't started bleeding again as it had done a few times before. The stitches were still in place and the cuts were closing up nicely.

Dean looked annoyed as usual when Sam would inspect his wounds, particularly if there were stitches involved. Sam had learned the hard way never to leave Dean alone with a stitched-up wound. He hated having to get stitches because they itched and pulled his skin whenever he moved and he absolutely hated that feeling.

Once he had been so fed up with his stitches that he had taken them out way too early, resulting in the wound reopening and Dean waking up in blood soaked sheets. Ever since Sam had taken up the job of checking on Dean's stitches at least once a day, twice if they were fresh, to make sure they were taken care of and Dean hadn't done anything to them.

After that both sat on the bed for a while, unmoving in the silence, but for once it wasn't awkward as it had been for the past few weeks. In fact it was comforting to them as they pondered how things might change from now on.

Sam's eyes drifted to their bags and he felt a pang in his heart which was soon soothed with hope. He had never really taken the time to stand still and think about the fact that everything to their names fitted in a few duffle bags in the back of a car. It saddened him, but maybe that was a good thing. They would be able to pretty much start from scratch without a whole collection of things to remind them of the life they had lived for so long.

Sam saw it as a chance for a complete new start. Once they got to the house they wouldn't be the Winchesters, hunters, anymore, they would be the Winchesters, brothers, and nothing more. They wouldn't be expected to save anyone's life nor take care of every bad thing in the world.

Neither had any idea how much time passed but when Dean gently touched Sam's shoulder Sam startled a little. His eyes darted around the room a little before focussing on Dean. "Hey, euhm, you've got any idea when you want to leave?" Dean asked, almost timidly.

Sam thought about that for a second before glancing at his watch and reaching over for the pen and notepad that still lay on his nightstand and wrote down: _"I was thinking, maybe we could get some lunch from that burger place you like and be on our way."_

Dean nodded a little at that, although the motion was so slight Sam first thought he had imagined it. "Sounds good, Sammy." With that Dean stood up and walked over towards the door where he stopped for a moment without turning around. "I'll just… go check on the Impala, make sure she's ready." And with that he disappeared into the hallway.

They had about half an hour left till lunch and Sam knew the Impala didn't need any more checking but Sam let him. He could hear from Dean's voice and the distant look in his eyes when he asked about leaving that he was having a hard time leaving it all behind.

Mind you, it was hard on Sam too, he was just trying to keep himself in check as much as possible because of Dean; he already had more than enough reasons not to want to go through with this, and Sam admitting he was having a hard time as well and even doubting what they were about to do, even if just a little, would only have Dean resisting it all the more.

Sam realized there was quite a bit of irony to be found in his situation. The life he had once so hard tried to escape, and now that he was presented with that chance, he found it hard to part with the life he had grown so accustomed of, even enjoyed at times. To be by his brother's side like that, neither of them really having to rely on anyone but themselves, and all so other people, innocent people, would be able to sleep peacefully at night, never having to know the horrible creatures they only knew from tv or books could end their lives at any given moment. It was hard work, hunting, but it was satisfying, knowing you did something right, even if you never got any recognition for it.

When he went downstairs Sam found Bobby at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee as he stared out of the window. Sam walked over to stand next to him. Together they watched as Dean opened up the Impala's hood in an attempt to keep himself occupied.

"So, you two decided when you're gonna leave?" Bobby asked without looking away.

Sam hummed softly in response. "Around noon." He finally added after a few moments of silence. Bobby hummed, barely loud enough for Sam to pick up on it, still not looking up at Sam as he brought his cup to his lips.

Time passed in silence as they watched Dean put down the hood and fill a bucket with water and some soap. "I figured that way I'll still have time to go to the grocery store and get us some food." This time Sam didn't get an answer, not even a hum. Even more time passed before Sam finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I'll just go get him some dry clothes for when he's done." He said. He was just about to turn around and walk away when Bobby grabbed his wrist, still not looking at him. "Bobby?"

When Bobby turned around Sam could see the sadness in his eyes right away. "Bobby."

Bobby just shook his head and tightened his grip around Sam's wrist for just an instant. "No, Sam. This is something I gotta do. I'm gonna miss you boys, and I just want you to know, to me, you were the sons I never had, and I hope you two won't forget about me ."

"Bobby, we're only five hours away, we'd never-" Sam started but Bobby raised a hand to silence him.

"All I wish for is for this to help Dean, and if I know you like I think I do, then I know you'll find a way, Sam. Sure, it's only five hours away, but I don't think it would be wise for either the two of you to come over here or me to drive over there, and by the time everything will have fallen into place the two of you will have started a whole new life, and that new life ain't gonna include me."

" I'm trying to be realistic Sam, and if this is what must be done, if this is the price to pay, then so be it. It'll hurt for a good long while, no doubt about that, but in the end, it's for the best. As long as the both of you are together everything will be alright, but despite the fact that you two can face everything I'd much rather see you deal with insufferable bosses or trying to file taxes than having to carry the load of an entire world on your shoulders." Sam had let his hand slide through Bobby's just a little so that he was now holding his hand.

Bobby looked down at their joined hands for a moment before a single tear rolled down his cheeks followed by a small, broken laugh. "And at least then I won't have to keep you two idjits from getting yourselves into trouble."

At that Sam let go of Bobby's hand and threw his arms around him. "We'll never forget you, Bobby. I promise." Bobby let out a chuckle as he briefly but tightly wrapped his own arms around Sam before he let go. He turned back around towards the window as he wiped at his eyes.

"Now go get that idiot brother of yours some dry clothes before he catches a cold." Sam smiled a small smile, broken at the edges as he glanced outside as well. All Dean had on were his jeans and a t-shirt, both of which were dripping with sudsy water. He didn't seem to care but Bobby was right. Getting a cold on top of everything else would only serve to make Dean even more irritable and miserable.

Once upstairs Sam first went inside Dean's room to check if maybe he had planned on washing the Impala beforehand and had left out some clothes. This seemed not to be the case so he went to his own room to take something out of Dean's duffle. He knew Dean would just go straight to the bathroom to shower so he left everything in there.

By the time Dean made it inside it was starting to get pretty close to noon so while he was in the shower Sam decided to already put their bags in the Impala. Dean had never really been one for unnecessary long showers and by the time Sam was sure he had everything and was about to go back inside he spotted Dean and Bobby hugging through the window. When they broke apart Bobby quickly scrawled something down before thrusting it towards Dean's chest. Dean took it and quickly glanced down before folding it and, or so Sam assumed because he couldn't see Dean entirely from the window, put it in his pocket.

When Sam finally entered he managed to catch a glimpse of Bobby's back as he left. When he then looked at Dean all he got was a short shake of the head. "Well then," Dean said softly as he picked up his jacket from where it lay folded over the top of one of the chairs. "Guess we're ready to leave then, aren't we." Sam's answer was a short nod. "Yeah, guess we are." The last was really just intended for himself. As he let his gaze wander around the room just to get a last look at everything he noticed Dean doing the same.


	5. The Foundations of Solutions

This had to be their most awkward car ride to date. They had stopped to pick up lunch and despite the fact that Dean had ordered the same amount as usual he had barely eaten half. As he drove Sam wished that Dean would have at least looked at the pictures of the house. The fact that Dean had absolutely no idea what he had bought worried Sam. Dean may have said he didn't care but Sam could still feel himself tensing up the closer they got. If he would have at least glanced at the pictures Sam would know Dean's opinion about it and would know what to deal with. He just had a feeling that as soon as he would see it, Dean would just hate it.

They had to drive though the nearby town to get to the house so when they were about to do so Sam gently tapped Dean on the shoulder to alert him to that fact. Dean sat up a little straighter so he could look around but the town was small and rather mundane so he just sagged in his seat again.

A little while after they exited the town Sam started to slow down. The house as well as the driveway lay pretty much completely hidden by the trees and thick bushes that flanked it. When Sam had driven up here to meet with the real estate agent he probably spent twenty minutes just driving up and down the road in an attempt to find it. As he searched he made a mental note to clear out the greenery at least enough so they'd be able to spot it.

The fact that Sam had slowed down and was intently looking at the greenery at the side of the road had Dean sitting back up again and looking through the window as well. Sam finally spotted the entrance to the driveway and as soon as he was off the road he glanced over at Dean. Dean was looking up and around at all the trees and greenery that surrounded them with his eyebrows folded in growing confusion. Sam could see the wrinkles on his forehead getting deeper by the moment, but they were most prominent when the actual house came up from between the bushes. Dean just stared at it for a bit before looking over at Sam. Sam just gave him a small smile before turning to look at the house. Dean turned his head back towards it as well, making a short 'hmm' sound as he nodded his head just a bit. "I have a sudden urge for a cup of tea."

Sam chuckled a little at that. The house did indeed look very British. It had been built in a traditional cottage style with thatched roof and walls made out of roughhewn stones in a myriad of greys. Sam had immediately been drawn to it because it looked so cosy and was just the right size. According to the real estate agent it had been commissioned by an older lady who had been born in England but moved to America after she had met her husband on one of her many trips.

After her husband passed away she had apparently felt a little lost in their giant villa and had wanted a cottage since she just loved those. Since there hadn't been any real cottages, as she had said, in the area she had just commissioned one build.

Because it was so small as well as rather secluded no one was really interested in buying it so they kept dropping the price. This had been a blessing to Sam because the other houses he had had found that were in the same prince range were just absolutely tiny and run down.

After having shut down the engine Sam got out of the car so he could get his bags. Moments later Dean did the same. Sam was expecting more snarky, maybe even insulting comments as they stepped under the small porch, but it seemed like the tea one might be the only one. It took Sam a moment to figure out where he had put the key but he finally managed to locate it and open the front door.

One thing Sam was really glad for was the fact that the house came fully furnished. As soon as they were inside both of them dropped their bags on the dining table. Sam just stood there, arms crossed and hips canted against the side of the table as he watched Dean take it all in. The dining and living room were really just one big room with a dining table and a bunch of cabinets to one side, and a big fireplace, a television, a couch and a recliner on the other. In the middle of the wall there was a passageway into the kitchen.

Once Dean was done inspecting the downstairs he made his way upstairs to where the bathroom and two bedrooms were. One of them had been a guest room so that one had a single bed while the other one had a double. By the time Sam made it upstairs as well Dean had thrown himself down on the biggest bed effectively claiming that room. Sam just shook his head at Dean through the doorway. While Dean was getting acquainted with his new bed Sam made his way back downstairs so he could get his stuff.

With his duffle in hand Sam stared at the bag that held all their weapons. They wouldn't have any need of those, at least not for a good long while but they couldn't just get rid of them either. He decided to just leave the bag for now.

It didn't take him very long to put everything away but once he was done he realized he still needed to do some shopping if either of them wanted to eat tonight and tomorrow morning. Sam glanced down at his watch and saw that he still had more than enough time to stop by the grocery store in town. He walked over towards Dean's room to tell him where he was going but found him asleep. That had Sam rolling his eyes but he didn't wake him. Instead, once he was back downstairs, he opened up the bag with all his books and took out the stack of notepads he had put in there. He took them all out and wrote on the top one that he had just gone to get some groceries, and yes, that included pie.

By the time Sam got back everything still looked the same in the living room, which must mean Dean was still asleep. With a sigh Sam picked up Dean's duffel and made his way up towards his room. Once he stood next to the bed he lifted the duffel up right over Dean's belly before opening his hand. Dean awoke with an 'omph' and looked just a bit panicked when he couldn't find his knife underneath his pillow. Once his vision cleared a little and he saw Sam and the duffle on his stomach he groaned and let himself fall back against the mattress. With Dean occupied upstairs Sam took the bag with the books over to the empty bookcase.

oo00oo00oo

The first week seemed to pass without any real incidents. Dean's sudden mood swings had become less frequent. That in itself was a good thing were it not that he had settled on melancholy. Sam had tried his best to involve Dean but he didn't really seem interested in doing anything. At first Sam saw that as positive because that meant he wasn't interested in hunting either but the damn indifference was really starting to weigh on Sam. He might have been able to live with it if that was all. Where Dean used to answer Sam's written message verbally he had now reverted to just writing them down underneath Sam's. He barely said a word anymore, which had Sam really worried.

Two or so days later Sam had about enough of it so he asked Dean why he wasn't talking anymore while they were having breakfast. Dean had a few more bites of egg before he took the pen and wrote down: _"It's just weird, not hearing myself when I talk. Keeps reminding me."_ Those simple words seemed to stab Sam right in the heart. As he looked at Dean eating the rest of his eggs he just felt so utterly helpless. Reading those words again Sam considered letting Dean in on a little secret.

Grabbing the pen he still wasn't sure if he should tell Dean. He had absolutely no idea how he would react. Having twirled the pen around at least a dozen times Sam decided to just do it. He set the pen to the paper and started to write: _"I bought a few books on how to learn sign language. I thought it might be easier, that way we won't have to use paper anymore and cross the room to talk. We could … learn it together … if you want to."_

Dean just looked at him as if he had grown a second head before eating the rest of his breakfast in one big bite and leaving the room. Sam watched him go, defeat clear in his eyes. Once Dean had disappeared upstairs he let his head fall in his hands with a sigh. He just felt like he had made a big mistake the longer they were here. All he wanted to do was help but all he seemed to do was make it worse.

The room suddenly got really stuffy, as if the walls were closing in on him and his head was filled with cotton balls. It was as if he couldn't get enough air in his lungs all the while someone was tearing at the hole already in his chest. He sucked up his breath when he could feel the prickling behind his eyes and rushed towards the kitchen. There he threw open the back door and let himself fall down on his knees in the grass. Seeing Dean like that was tearing him to pieces and everyday it seemed more and more like nothing he could do would make any difference. There was nothing to take revenge on, no incantation or creature that could be bullied into undoing it all.

Sam had no idea how long the knelt there in the grass but when he felt a single, cold droplet hit his face he decided it was maybe time to go back inside. A few more deep breaths and he finally seemed to regain control of his legs.

Once he closed the door behind him he thought that for once, he might take an example of Dean and just stow it all away somewhere deep inside. Oh, it was going to come back to haunt him, no doubt of that, but for now it worked and he could focus on other things. The first of those things were the dishes.

He wasn't really hungry anymore so he threw away the rest of his own breakfast. Next he filled the sink with warm water and some soap. They had a dishwasher but Sam liked to do them by hand. It was both something to do and a distraction.

As he went through the calming motions of cleaning the dishes Sam's mind drifted until it ended up focussing on one of the reasons he did the dishes, namely keeping himself occupied. There wasn't really much to do here, definitely after he had tackled pretty much every possible chore he could think of. He really wanted to see if he could maybe get a job in town. He had been thinking about it even before they had actually moved in.

Not only did he think it might be good for him to be away from Dean a few hours a day just to keep himself sane but also because, eventually, he really wanted to start paying for everything with his own money. He had paid for the first deposit of the house with money from their credit card scams as well as some money Bobby had saved but insisted he use to pay for the house. That was all good and well and they had survived off of scams and hustling but for once in his life Sam wanted to make honest money.

The only reason he hadn't yet looked into getting a job was that he was worried about leaving Dean alone. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, it was just that, with him gone, Dean might just do something rash, and after his secret hunt, Sam was just a little worried as to what he might possibly come up with.

Once the dishes had been dried and put away Sam wrote a quick note saying he was going grocery shopping and left it on the table. He didn't really need to go to the store today, they probably had enough for a few more days but he just really needed to get out of the house, even if just for a little while. The town wasn't that far from the house so he opted to just walk there, hoping the crisp morning air might clear his head a little.

After a bit Sam could feel his worry for Dean dwindle, at least for the time being. The road to town didn't really have that much traffic going down it. The rustling of the leaves as they were blown from the trees and the singing of birds paired with the sound of his own footsteps as Sam treaded on the piles of decaying leaves that had collected along the side of the road the only sounds. For one of the first times in a very long while Sam actually heard the sounds of nature. Too long had the sounds surrounding him been those of cities and cars. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to just walk and let nature wash over you. Even before he hadn't noticed it, his mind too occupied with wanting to help Dean.

As Sam walked he realized that maybe, he could get used to this. Right there and then he decided that if he were to just stay at home with Dean he would at least try to go for a walk each day. Glad that he had now finally found something to at least occupy his time with and even take his mind off of things for a bit Sam's steps gained a bit of a spring to them.

Before he made his way over to the grocery store Sam decided to stop at the local library. If he remembered correctly he had seen a rack full of flyers the last time he had passed by it and he thought that, between the endless prattling of the real estate agent, she had mention something about public footpaths.

After a little searching he finally found a flyer with some information about the local fauna and flora and a small map with all public footpaths on it inside. Just when Sam was about to fold the flyer and shove it into his coat pocket his eyes fell on a note hung a little above the rack. Apparently they were in search of someone to help out in the library after one of the old employees moved. Not exactly knowing why Sam took out his pen – which had taken permanent residence in his pocket – and wrote down the phone number listed on the bottom of the flyer. Not that he actually wanted to call and apply for the job, just that a strange feeling made him do it.

With the flyer finally stuffed in his pocket, Sam quickly made his way out of the library and towards the store. He bought a few things he knew they would use so he hadn't come all the way here for nothing and by the time he was back on his way home he had all but forgotten about the phone number in his pocket.

Dean was still pretty pissed at Sam because he ignored him for the rest of the day. He even waited for Sam to finish both lunch and dinner before he ate his own. The walk had done Sam good but he was still a little peeved at the way Dean was behaving. If he'd just talk or at least consider accepting Sam's help. Instead he just kept it all in and Sam was really starting to fear the moment he'd reach his breaking point.

That particular point seemed to come closer every night. Every once in a while, Dean still had nightmares about hell, but it seemed as if something new had added itself to that, something that seemed to grow worse every night. For a few hours each night Sam would be awoken by Dean's cries of anguish and broken sobs. As Dean was being taunted by ghastly whispers and scarring images, Sam tried to shut them out as best as he could while he could feel his heart break even further.

After a restless night Sam still got up around the same time he usually did. Despite not really having any obligations he had still set a sort of schedule for both him and Dean. It could vary a little from day to day but not too much. After five more minutes of just laying in bed with his eyes closed and listening to the rustling of leaves and singing of birds the need to pee eventually won out and Sam got up.

The bathroom always seemed a little colder than the rest of the house. He had no idea why and after noticing the first time he had spent the next two days trying to figure it out, to no avail. Not that it really mattered that much, at least not for the time being, he just hoped it wouldn't be absolutely freezing in winter.

With that taken care of Sam made his way over to Dean's room to wake him up. Dean had been a little cranky about that at first, asking why he had to get up so early if he didn't have anything to do. That was exactly the point, without really anything to do the last thing Sam wanted was for Dean to just stay in bed all day long.

Sam knew that having nothing to do was one of Dean's worst nightmares. He had hoped that maybe that would prompt him into accepting Sam's help. He had suggested several times that Dean could help out around the house with all the little things that needed to be fixed. Despite constantly nagging about how he had nothing to do he always told Sam he wasn't interested, so, restless as Sam had been, he had just done everything himself.

A bored Dean who wasn't allowed to sleep in while having nothing to do was a cranky Dean, and a cranky Dean was an irritable, nagging Dean. From Dean's first complaint on Sam had decided that he could endure endless moping and complaining for the sake of helping Dean. The plan had backfired, though. The complaining had stopped and Dean got up whenever Sam woke him without a fuss but he still wouldn't accept any actual help, he had just stopped caring.

Sam carefully entered Dean's room. Deaf as he may be he stil possesed a hunter's instincts and often knew when someone was in the room with him. Dean's trashing body was to the left of him and he tried to ignore the chill that ran up his spine from seeing Dean like that.

He had learned not to just walk up to Dean and shake him awake anymore like he usually did. The reason he did this was because sometimes Dean would be stuck in a nightmare when he came to wake him and the shaking tended to scare him awake. Sam had made that mistake the second day they were here. He had shook Dean's shoulder and it had caused Dean to sit up sttaight. He went straight for the knife he kept under his pillow and looked at Sam without really seeing him. He was still half-stuck in his

No, Sam knew better than to startle Dean into wakefulness. He'd shuffle over to the window first and part the thick curtains, allowing the light to wash over Dean and gently pull him out of his dreams. Next Sam turned to look at him. If he was caught in a dream the light would cause his whole body to slump and the pained expression on his face to relax. It could take a minute or two but as soon as he let out a sigh and started to breathe evenly Sam knew he was there.

Today, however, that didn't happen. His body stayed tense as he squirmed and mumbled under his ragged breath. His entire face was scrunched up and he was holding onto his pillow so tight Sam was certain it must have hurt. His dreams seemed to have become more intense than usual and they may have even started to go on for the majority of the night instead of the several, short but intense burst he usually suffered from, judging from his soaked shirt and fitted sheet and the sheets at his feet which were more tangled than usual.

Sam waited for about five more minutes but the dreams didn't seem to lessen even the slightest bit. Against better judgement Sam made his way over towards the bed and extended his hand to brush away the short, sweat soaked strands that clung to Dean's forehead. He caught himself just before his fingertips made contact with Dean's skin. As he stood there, with his arm extended Dean turned his head just a little, enough for Sam to see his lips moving and even somewhat hear what had first been muffled by the pillow. The murmuring was too soft for Sam to actually distinguish any words but he thought he heard Dean say his name a few times.

That's what did it for Sam. He sat himself down on the side of the bed and let his fingers brush away the few wayward hairs. He kept carding his fingers through those short hairs while his gaze fixed itself on the trees outside and he started to whisper. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I really am. I just wish there was something I could do. I'd do anything to give you back your old life, anything. But I can't. All I can do is to try and make you see that, even though our lives may be different now, they don't have to be anything less. If you'd just stop being so stubborn and talk to me already. I get it, you're the big brother, but that doesn't mean I can't take care of myself _and_ you for that matter. Stop ignoring your own needs just to give me everything you think I need. Right now, there is only one thing I need, that is for you to get better."

"It might seem selfish but I was actually kinda glad something had finally come up that meant you had to stop hunting, and then when you agreed to come and live here… I thought that this was going to be it. We'd be able to live our own lives and I wouldn't constantly have to see you put yourself in danger. I've lost you too many times already, and even though you came back every single time, that doesn't mean losing you hurts any less. So please stop shutting me out."

Silence fell over the room then. For a few more moments Sam sat there before he realized that it was _silent_ inside the room. No more murmuring and Dean's breath had slowed to a deep, steady rhythm. When he turned his head to look at him Sam saw that he had gone completely limp and there was peace on his face. Sam then realized that he still had his fingers in Dean's hair. He removed them and for a moment it was as if Dean was chasing after the touch. "Sammy." He whispered before cuddling deeper into his pillow.

Sam looked from Dean to his hand and back again. Had something as simple as his touch really eased Dean's sleep or was it the sunlight which had finally burned away the darkness in his sleeping mind. Dean was sleeping peacefully so he decided that he didn't really care. He grabbed the edge of the blanket from where it lay at Dean's feet and pulled it over him. Watching him sleep like this, it brought a smile to Sam's lips.

With that Sam gently closed the door and finally made his way downstairs. As much as he liked him and Dean to have at least a bit of routine in their lives, he wasn't about to take away his sleep, not when he was finally at peace. He needed that sleep and it was one way Sam felt like he could help.

Seeing Dean sleep so peacefully actually put Sam in a pretty good mood. After breakfast and leaving a note for Dean in case he woke up Sam put on his jacket and stepped outside. He took in a deep breath of the crisp morning air and took out the small map which was still in his pocket. He really wanted to check out those footpaths and see if any of them were good for running. He really wanted to make it a regular thing and he had tried before but cases would come up or one could take an unexpected turn leaving him with no time to run as often as he wanted.

As he stood there on the side of the road, map in one hand, the other buried in his hair, he really hoped winter would come soon. Oh, the scenery was absolutely gorgeous, all painted in red and yellow, russet and orange, and even little bits of green, but it was just all so thick and lush that he longed for the bare branches of winter to show him everything that lay obscured behind them. As if it hadn't been hard enough to find a simple driveway, which is of a certain width, the footpaths seemed to lay completely hidden. The beginnings and ends of each one were marked on the map and there may or may not have been any indicators but if there were they seemed to be perfectly hidden.

After some more searching and poking the bushes, Sam finally managed to find the entrance to the footpath completely by accident. Straightening himself a little after his almost too intimate introduction with the actual path Sam looked up and around him, trying his best to memorize the exact spot. The flyer had mentioned that this particular path wasn't as looked after as the other two because it wasn't used very often. People preferred the other two which were accessible almost as soon as you walked out of the little town. The town wasn't exactly touristic so if there wasn't any need for that particular footpath why spend time and money taking care of it. It wasn't worded like that in the flyer but that's what Sam thought it all boiled down to.

The paths actually used to be pretty wide and while the entrance had grown completely shut the actual path had just gotten a little narrower but not so much that it became a nuisance. There was plenty of room left to walk and Sam actually thought it looked really nice, natural, not as artificial as some footpaths tended to be. It felt more as if he was just wandering about and searching his own path instead of following one, but then without the risk of getting lost.

The longer Sam walked the more he realised he was actually glad that the 'abandoned' path was the one closest to their home. People were nice and everything, but there was almost nothing he hated more than being disturbed when he was trying to relax or be alone with his thoughts. After spending so much time with one person who was constantly around, something as simple as a stranger passing by and waving, nodding or smiling in greeting could sometimes feel like an intrusion. It was an irrational way of thinking, Sam knew that, but it was just something he couldn't help.

One day, he'd really like to just go walking in the forest behind the house but for that he'd have to get more familiar with the area first, lest he get lost. He had done a little exploring already but he had never gone so far that he couldn't still see the house in the distance.

Time had flown by because before Sam knew it he had reached the end of the footpath. There was another one relatively close by but that one would only lead him further away from the cottage and he was getting a little anxious about seeing Dean. He had absolutely no idea which street he was on but luckily he little map included those as well so he decided to just make his way back home via those. Might help him to get to know the area a little bit better.

Now that thoughts of Dean had slipped into his mind Sam's thoughts quickly turned back to him, no matter what else he tried to think about. He really hoped he had slept for at least a little while longer or that if he had awoken it wasn't because of the nightmares. He really needed the sleep, actual deep sleep, not nightmare filled ones that prevented him from resting.

Dean and nightmares, those were two inseparable companions, Sam knew that, and yet these worried him to such an extent the others never had. Before this, the worst Sam had seen Dean was after Hell, but those nightmares were usually silent with a lot of tossing and turning. Dean would startle awake sometimes but he never actually awoke with a scream. These new nightmares also seemed to weigh heavier on Dean probably because there wasn't anything he could do. After Hell they had been provided with a chance to right some of their doings and eventually managed to save the world.

No matter what, it always comes down to the same thing, the fact that Dean felt useless and like he can't mean anything to this world anymore. They were stuck in a vicious circle, one Sam had no idea how to break.

When he finally made it back home Dean was awake. He probably had only just woken up judging from his mussed up hair and the fading pillow crease on his cheek. He sat at the table eating breakfast with one of the many magazines they had found stowed away in a large wicker basket.

Dean had been quick to call them stupid old chick magazines but he seemed rather invested in the article he was currently reading. The way he sat there, reading while shovelling food into his mouth without even looking at either his plate or fork made Sam crack a tiny smile. It made him think that maybe, next time he was in town, he might have to stop by the library and inquire about a library card for Dean. That way he could just read whatever books he wanted whenever he wanted.

What made Sam's smile widen was the fact that Dean looked better than he had for the last few days. There were still dark bags under his eyes but he looked more awake than ever. His eyes seemed a little less sunken and they looked more alert as well. He knew it was probably too much to ask for but he really hoped this meant that Dean's nightmares might stop or at least lessen to such a degree that they didn't left him completely exhausted and broken afterwards. He wasn't entirely certain but it seemed as if those few hours of sleep had fixed some of those cracks.

Sam walked further into the living room and over towards the table where he tapped the table once right above the magazine. This must've startled Dean because his head shot up to look at Sam before he quickly closed the magazine and tossed it underneath the table.

That made Sam snigger as he lightly shook his head. Dean scowled at him for a moment before going back to his breakfast. Sam took off his jacket and threw it over the back of one of the chairs before disappearing into the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water. The walk back had been a little longer than he had anticipated and it had left him thirsty.

Once his thirst was quenched he grabbed one of the many notebooks lying around as he made his way back over towards Dean. The windowsill next to the table held a whole cluster of pens, - seriously, before they put all of them together Sam had absolutely no idea they had that many pens. Some had been stuffed into jackets or their duffels and then forgotten, others were new ones he had bought to go with the notebooks and the rest he had absolutely no idea where they came from. Probably just Dean taking them with him whenever a motel had free pens with their name and address lying around.

He scribbled down: _'I honestly don't care what you read."_ Before adding to the line underneath it. _'I'm going to take a shower." _

Dean scowled at the first line before writing down a quick _"OK."_ next to the second. _"Tell me when you're done. I want to shower as well."_

Sam gave a nod at that before throwing the pen back on the pile. Dean's eyes followed Sam closely while he left the living room and the moment he was sure he was gone he reached underneath the table and grabbed his magazine. He leafed back to the page he had been reading so he could continue while finishing up his breakfast.

That night Sam slept with a smile on his face because not a single sound came from Dean's bedroom.

Dean's peaceful nights continued on. He looked less like a wreck with each passing day and even became a little less lethargic. Once when Sam returned from his run he found Dean outside behind the house, chopping wood. There must have been a rather heavy storm before they moved here because there were quite a bit of loose branches and even some thin trees that had cracked and fallen down to be found.

Dean had gone into the woods with the axe he had found in the small woodshed, which was almost empty, in search of firewood. After he had come upon one of those thick branches or small trees lying around he had started chopping them to a size more suitable for carrying and gathered it all in a heap at the edge of the forest.

The first day was really just spent building up the heap and once Dean thought he had enough he started chopping them into smaller pieces and putting them inside the woodshed. Sam had actually been rather pleased when he found out Dean was replenishing their stock of firewood. When he had seen the fireplace for the first time Sam had been immediately taken with it. It wasn't particularly fancy or anything but it was big. It took up the majority of the wall it had been built in and he could just picture himself sitting next to a crackling and blazing fire, reading while snow fell or a storm raged.

As positive a thing it was for Dean, it was a bit of a drawback for Sam. Sam had pretty much already done anything he could do around the house and unlike Dean he couldn't just spend days at a time reading, sulking or playing games on the laptop. It was kind of as if roles had been reversed since Dean was usually the restless one while Sam possessed the patience of a saint.

With every passing day the crawling feeling underneath his skin intensified until he reached the point where he barely could sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. He'd aimlessly wander around the cottage, go for both walks and runs, sometimes even multiple ones a day and whenever he sat down he'd either start to fiddle with his hands or bounce his knee.

It drove Dean absolutely insane. At one point he ripped a piece of paper off of one of the notepads and wrote in big bold letters: _"SIT DOWN OR I'LL GO GET ONE OF MY GUNS AND MAKE IT SO YOU NEVER MOVE AGAIN!"_

This seemed to shock Sam out of it, or at least temporarily because he took a deep breath and let himself fall down onto the couch. He reached out towards the notepad and pen that lay on the coffee table and pretty much just started to rant about how he had nothing to do. He filled little over half a page before he handed it over to Dean. Before Dean had even managed to read the first word Sam was already back on his feet and on his way towards the kitchen to get started on dinner.

As innocent as Sam's words may have been, they made Dean think. Sam probably never intended it this way, he was simply ranting because he had nothing else to occupy his mind, but by the time Dean had finished reading he actually felt a little guilty. Sure, it may have been Sam who wanted to move here, but he only wanted to do so because of Dean. He knew that just as much as he knew that Sam tried to stay home as much as he could because of Dean and particularly his previous actions.

He knew he hadn't been very interested or paid a lot of attention to Sam when he mentioned buying a house, not even after everything had been agreed on. He couldn't remember much of the specifics Sam had told him but the one thing he did was Sam mentioning how he could maybe get a job in town. Dean pretty much expected Sam to come home after shopping and tell him he had a job on one of their first days. He was a friendly, lovable guy who always aimed to please when it came to stuff like that; who wouldn't want to hire him.

When that hadn't happened Dean didn't really pay it much heed, not that he was in much of a mind-set to do so either, but reading those words made him realise Sam hadn't even mentioned getting a job even once. It worried him because he knew he was the cause of it.

During dinner Dean felt the constant need to address the issue but didn't act on it. He did glance over towards Sam almost every other bite, causing Sam to frown a little.

By the time dinner was over Dean's feelings of guilt had grown. Ever the big brother Dean felt bad for keeping Sam confined to the house, even if only involuntarily so. He didn't have the right to do that to Sam so when Sam stood up to take the dishes away into the kitchen Dean quickly leaned over and grabbed his arm. Sam's eyes widened a little in surprise but Dean stared right into them and said: "Sammy, I need to talk to you."

Concern was evident on Sam's face but he nodded softly. Once Dean let go of his arm he followed him towards the couch and sat down next to him. He immediately reached over towards the notepad, worry in his eyes while he looked Dean over, searching for any indication of what might be wrong. _"What's wrong?" _Sam wrote.

Dean shook his head a little before he replied: _"I'm fine, Sammy. It's actually you I'm worried about." _

Sam frowned a little at that before looking up from the pad. "Me?" Dean didn't need written word or sound to understand that.

He nodded briefly. _"Yes, you. Sam, you pretty much behave like a caged animal, unable to sit still. I know you're worried about me, but, you don't have to be, not really. I remember you telling me you might want to get a job in town, yet I don't think you've even looked into it, have you? I know you want to, and really, I can look after myself for a few hours a day."_

Sam just stared at Dean for a bit after he read it all. Had it been that obvious? He never meant to worry Dean. It's just that he was worried about what Dean might do. Foremost of all he feared Dean taking off again like he had at Bobby's. It's not exactly the taking off that scared Sam, it's the possible consequences. If him and Bobby had gotten to Dean a few minutes later he might not have been here anymore, and that's what made Sam so reluctant to leave. That was the majority of the why. There was also the fact that he didn't want Dean to think he was abandoning him because of everything, that he wanted to be away from him for the sake of being away.

"_I just worry about you, Dean. That's all."_ Sam finally wrote. That earned him a sigh from Dean.

"_And I'm telling you there's no need. If I promise not to do anything stupid will you at least go and have a look in town." _Sam gave a short nod which caused Dean to give him a little smile.

Sam took that as the end of it and got up so he could gather up the dishes. While he stacked both plates and placed the cutlery on top of it his eyes drifted towards the flyer with the map which he had placed on the windowsill next to the mountain of pens. Despite the fact that he had handled that piece of paper almost every day for the past few days he had completely forgotten about the phone number he had written down on it.

After he got Sam to agree to at least go and look if there was anything in town Dean had felt a surge of something, something he hadn't felt in a while. It was the feeling he got whenever he did something for Sam, took care of him. It was one of the feelings he treasured the most and it felt absolutely amazing after such a long time. It was a little like when he took Sam away from Stanford to hunt again. The thrill of doing things together again, but most of all, to care and look out for the person most dear to him.


	6. Guardian

Sam had planned on calling in the morning but it was already past noon and he still hadn't even picked up his phone or the flyer. He kept telling himself that they had probably already found someone. Of course there was no way for him to be completely sure of that so when he had finally finished doing everything he could think of in order to put it off he took a deep breath and dialled the number.

With his phone pressed to his ear in the middle of the living room Sam realized he had never actually had a real job, nor had he ever applied for one. It all felt a little surreal and he could actually feel his nerves start to frazzle. He let out a nervous little laugh when he realised that, Sam Winchester, monster hunter extraordinaire and saviour of the world was actually scared of inquiring about a job.

Just when he was about to lose his nerve and press the end button someone picked up. "Hello, my name's Sam Winchester. I'm calling about the job advert hanging from –"

Sam was interrupted by the woman on the other end of the line rather loudly cheering. "Praise the lord, finally. I was starting to fear no one was ever going to call. Oh, but where are my manners. I'm Margery, I own the library." Sam chuckled awkwardly into the phone. He had no idea what he had been expecting but it certainly wasn't that.

"Sorry if I startled you." The woman, Margery eventually said after a moment of silence, laughter evident in her voice. "It's just that that advert has been up for quite some time already and I wasn't really expecting anyone to call anymore. Glad to see I was wrong. So, you'd like to work at my library."

Her voice and easy way of talking quickly put Sam at ease. "Yes M'am."

"Oh no no no, that won't do." Margery quickly replied. "Margery, please. You make me feel old."

"I'll try to remember that." Sam said.

"Good. Now then, why do you want to work at our beautiful library."

Sam felt a little of his stress seep back into his body. "Well, euh, I, euh, we just moved here, me and my brother, and now that we've settled in I wanted to see about getting a job and, euh, I love books."

After Sam finished talking Margery was silent for a moment longer, something that caused his stomach to fill with dread.

"Great." She eventually said. "I think you'll do perfect. Now if you could maybe come over, say, tomorrow or so that'd be lovely. I could show you everything and you could start right away. I've been handling everything on my own for the past month and everything's just chaos." She let out a chuckle at that.

Sam nodded into the receiver before realising she couldn't see him and answering. "That won't be a problem, at all."

"Well then, see you tomorrow, oh, what did you say your name was again. Sorry." Apology evident in her voice.

"It's okay. It's Sam, Sam Winchester."

"Well then, Sam. See you tomorrow." Margery then said.

"See you tomorrow, Margery. Bye." When he heard her end the call Sam started to smile his head off and put his phone down with a flourish.

Dean chose the right time to come back in. He had been out chopping up the last bits of wood and filling up the woodshed. He was currently carrying a large wicker basket filled with kindling and quickly put it down next to the crate of wood besides the fireplace. Relieved from his load Dean turned around to look at Sam with a questioning look. Sam's smile and curt nod were apparently enough because Dean nodded quickly in return.

Both Sam and Dean were in a pretty good mood for the rest of the day. Sam was happy because he had gotten the job and Dean because he wouldn't have to deal with Sam watching his every move and constantly asking him if he was alright all the time every day. It was one of those things Sam used to do when they were still hunting as well but since they had moved it had reached rather epic proportions and that shit got on your nerves.

It would seem luck was finally on their side and things might start to get better from now on, Sam having a job to focus his time and energy on and Dean having several hours to himself every day. The only downside was that Dean slept very badly that night. He didn't have an actual nightmare but he was tossing and turning and woke up every few hours for no apparent reason. He told himself it was merely a bad night like everyone, whether they had nightmares or not, was bound to have once in a while.

The next day Sam made a pretty big breakfast and was awfully chipper, even more so than usual. The pace at the library was pretty calm so there was plenty of time for Margery to show and explain everything to Sam. In those first few hours Sam had really started to like her even despite her extreme tendency to gossip about everyone and everything. He had found that out the hard way.

His job at the library mainly consisted of making sure all books were in order, putting the returned books back on their shelves and helping the customers while Margery checked out the books. While she was explaining everything to Sam she had mentioned the woman he was replacing, Ellie, she had told him all about her life and life's choices, sometimes in excruciating detail and always accompanied by "If you ask me…".

Apparently Ellie and her husband had wanted kids for a while and she was now finally pregnant. Because she wanted her child to have more options and because her husband already has to travel to the city every day to go to work they decided to move to the city.

With Sam at the library Dean planned to take a nap after lunch but despite the fact that he actually felt tired he was unable to fall asleep. After a while of just lying on the couch and staring at the protruding support beams overhead he sat up. He was just blankly staring in front of him when he noticed one of the bigger pieces of wood in the basket. He grabbed it and started to pull off the jagged and loose ends.

After the small piece of wood was pretty even he dug his thumbnail into one of the wood grains and started to pull strips of wood from it. By the time he was done he had given himself a few splinters so Dean went upstairs to get his knife so he could continue. One by one he took out the bigger chunks of wood and cut thin, curling strips from them. After a bit he even started to experiment with different ways of cutting the wood.

The cutting had a calming effect on him and after a few more minutes he threw the piece of wood he had been working on back in the basket, put his knife on the coffee table and lay down. It didn't take him long to fall asleep for a short nap, and a short one it was. Just like the night before he awoke with a start for no apparent reason, at least not that Dean knew of.

That night he didn't sleep well either. He had gotten so used to a good night's sleep that he felt more tired than usual after so little sleep. He was starting to get pretty certain it wasn't a case of a single bad night anymore. It was as if it was steadily getting worse. At first just tossing and turning and randomly waking up, but now he had had a nightmare again. Granted, it was just a mild one, but that's how they had started all the other times as well. Apparently whatever had caused them to stop had either lost its magic or had gone.

He didn't mention anything to Sam, though. He was pretty certain that if he mentioned the nightmares Sam would just start to worry again and Dean didn't want to be the cause of him quitting his new job just because of some bad dreams.

Dean tried to hide any indicators from showing up in his behaviour. For one Sam finally seemed to be at ease and secondly he didn't need him to go all mother hen on his ass again. He thought he was doing a pretty good job because Sam still asked him if he was alright and such, but never more than usual. Once day he had even brought back a bunch of books because apparently, Margery allowed you to check out books free of charge if you worked there.

Dean thought he was doing pretty well in hiding it from Sam but not even he could do anything about his screams in the middle of the night once the nightmares returned full force.

Sam was immediately awoken by the first scream and once he realised what was going on he cursed himself for being an idiot. He had noticed that Dean acted a little strange sometimes but he'd always be quick to hide it. He hadn't really paid it any heed for the simple fact that he didn't want to notice it. He wanted everything to be in favour of them for once, for everything to get better, but obviously that wasn't their life.

After their absence Dean's screams seemed worse than they had been before. Chills ran down Sam's spine with every noise that reached his ears. At a certain point he threw the covers off of him and marched over towards Dean's room. There he sat himself down at the side of the bed like he had before one morning. It had worked then and while Sam had no idea if it had actually been because of what he did, a strange coincidence or just dumb luck, he felt like he at least had to try.

He gently placed his fingertips on Dean's forehead to push away the short strands of hair there. Dean's whole body seemed to stiffen for a moment and Sam was tempted to pull back his hand and leave but then he relaxed a little and Sam actually smiled some. He started to run his fingers through Dean's hair and didn't stop even when he changed positions and pulled his long legs on top of the bed so he could lean against the headboard.

Dean had calmed down completely and had slipped into a deep sleep for a while now but Sam didn't stop. He stayed where he was and kept running his fingers through Dean's hair. At a certain point Dean actually curled his body around Sam's and held onto Sam's shirt and pants leg.

For the rest of the night Sam sat there, just watching Dean sleep and keeping him safe from the terrors of his mind. A little before Dean usually woke up Sam slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. He was tired but he didn't care, it had been worth it and at least now he knew how he could stop Dean from dreaming.

When Dean awoke he thought that it may actually just have been a few difficult nights. He really hoped the dreams would stay away because there was no way he could hide the symptoms from Sam for much longer. Sleep deprivation and night terrors left their traces and no matter how good an actor Dean may be, there were just some things Sam would be bound no notice.

When he made his way downstairs he was actually a little surprised to find Sam clutching onto his cup of coffee looking tired. Out of the two of them Sam was the only morning person and was awake pretty much as soon as he opened his eyes. Dean needed a little longer to wake up but always got there in the end. For a second he wondered what could have Sam so tired because ever since they moved here Sam had been pretty insistent about them going to bed at a reasonable time.

Despite the tired look in Sam's eyes, the smile he gave Dean as soon as he noticed him entering the kitchen was so big and bright Dean threw all worry out of the window.

oo00oo00oo

Armed with that new knowledge Sam sacrificed his own need for sleep for Dean's. Every night, as soon as he was certain Dean was asleep he would sneak into Dean's room and sit himself down next to him. He'd be able to catch a wink of sleep here and there if he dozed off or whenever he was on his break from work. He was actually a little afraid of falling sleep because then he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Dean and notice if a nightmare was on its way so he could prevent it.

He had been doing this for a few days now and he was absolutely drained. He didn't even really go for walks or runs anymore. He still went out so Dean wouldn't notice something was off but usually he'd just walk over to a nice, slightly hidden spot he had found near the entrance of the nearest footpath and close his eyes for a bit while lying in the grass and fallen leaves.

It was the end of the week and someone had gifted his rather large collection of books to the library so Sam was busy checking the books for missing pages or any other sort of damage that meant they weren't fit to be loaned out. He had a list of all books presently in the library and after looking the books over he would consult the list to see if they already had that book. If not, he had to write it in.

While he was doing this he would drift off every few books and his eyes would fall shut. The moment he felt his head tilt forwards he'd startle awake and try to continue. It was getting harder and harder for Sam to concentrate with every passing moment and Margery must have noticed as well because after looking around the library to see if there was anyone about the check out his or her books she grabbed a chair, spun it around so it was facing Sam and sat down. Sam was just about to ask what she was doing but she just grabbed the book and pen he was holding, put it down on top of the list and pushed it away from them. "Talk to me." She said.

Sam just looked at her for a moment, not sure what was happening. "Talk about .. what exactly?" He asked, eyebrows folded.

"This," She made a vague gesture towards all of him. "You've been looking worse every day, so tell me, what's wrong."

Sam let out a sigh. He didn't really feel like telling someone about it. Margery was still pretty much a stranger to him but alas, since he was tired and not really thinking all that straight he told her all about Dean and his deafness, how worried he was about him and about the fact that he was afraid to go to sleep out of fear of Dean's nightmares starting again and not being able to do anything about it while he actually just wanted to say everything was fine.

For the entire time he was talking Margery didn't say a word. When he was finally done Sam had tears in his eyes. He had been rotating the same worries inside his mind over and over again while stacking new ones on top of them. Just letting everything out felt like a huge relief to him. To Sam it had felt like was pretty much carrying the entire world on his shoulders, and now a little of that load had been taken off.

"Everything will be alright, Sam. I promise. No, I know it will be." Margery said softly while she took Sam's hand. "I can't imagine what it must be like but I can understand your worries. You're a good person, Sam, and you want to do everything in your power to help him, but not sleeping won't do him any good. If anything it might cause him to start worrying about you."

Sam bit his lower lip but nodded. "Thank you, Margery."

Margery just smiled a little. "How about you take your break early and then you can finish up that box and go back to your brother.

" Sam nodded at her, a small smile on his lips while he used his sleeve to wipe away the tears. "Thanks, again." This caused Margery to shrug a bit.

"Hey, at least now I know why two young guys would want to move to a place like this." With that he she made a shooing motion towards Sam who then finally got up.

That night Sam still snuck into Dean's room but instead of sitting next to him he actually crawled under the covers as gently as he could. He was a little worried about not waking up in time and Dean finding him. Sam was pretty certain that, despite the fact that his presence prevented the nightmares, Dean would completely freak out, choosing to rather endure his nightmares than suffer though the embarrassment of sleeping with his brother in the same bed.

As he lay down and felt Dean latch onto him almost immediately Sam couldn't help but think of when he was a kid and frightened by thunderstorms and the monsters under his bed. He'd sneak out of bed and shuffle over towards Dean's, dragging his floppy eared stuffed bunny over the ground while chewing his thumbnail and staring at his feet. He'd whisper Dean's name and Dean would wake up every time, no matter how soft Sam's voice was and without even opening his eyes he would lift up the covers and scoot over a little. As soon as Sam lay cuddled against Dean's side Dean would wrap his arms around his little brother and whisper that as long as he was there to protect him he wouldn't need to fear anything.

Luckily for Sam Dean didn't wake up during the night and because he was so used to waking up before Dean he did just that the next morning. He snuck out from between Dean's arms so he could open the curtains and pee. It didn't really make any difference whether he opened the curtains or not because the days were shortening and it was still dark outside but he still did it because it was a habit.

It seemed as if things were finally taking a turn for the better. Sam was making some honest money and got a full night's sleep while knowing Dean wouldn't be terrorized by nightmares. He still hoped Dean would come to realize that accepting his help wasn't a sign of weakness but he was pretty content with the situation. Most of all Sam wanted Dean to take up his offer to teach him sign language. It would be much easier to talk if they didn't constantly have to rely on pen and paper. It would also make things much easier if Sam for example was in the kitchen while Dean sat in the living room. He'd just have to go stand in the doorway and they could talk.

Dean slept better than he had in a very long time and enjoyed the time at home without Sam hanging over him. During that time he usually played games on Sam's laptop or just generally wasted some time on it, reading the books Sam brought him and more and more he started to ask Sam for specific ones but on top of that he had found himself a new passion.

Since that first day he had started shredding those pieces of wood he had kept doing it and experimented with different ways of cutting and with different blades. At first it was really just a pathetic attempt at wasting some time but after a while he actually found himself enjoying it. At a certain point he tried to carve something simple into the wood, he even took some of the bigger blocks from the woodshed and cut them into smaller pieces so he could practice. After he was done or got too fed up with a piece he would usually cut it to pieces before dumping it into the basket with the kindling or into the fireplace.

Because it was getting darker earlier and earlier and colder by the day Sam had come into the habit of lighting the fireplace after dinner and more often than not they'd both sit down with a book.

One day Dean was about to go outside to chop up a block of wood when he paused in front of the back door and looked through the glass window in it. Their last loaf of bread had started to go a little stale and apparently Sam had torn it into small pieces and thrown them outside. A bunch of birds had gathered around the bread and were pecking at it, some even tried to steal each other's pieces. It was actually a little funny to see those sparrows, robins and finches squabbling with each other.

When he stepped outside they all flew away in a flurry of wings and chirps. Instead of just chopping the wood into smaller pieces he put the block on its side and tried his best to cut it into slices as evenly as possible. He had already looked through everything that lay in the small toolshed that stood next to the woodshed so when put the axe back in its place he took some twine, a hammer and some rusted nails with him.

Back inside he put everything down on the coffee table and started to work on evening each disk out and adding a bit of a dip on one side. Once that was done he hammered a few nails into the sides of the disks and attached some twine to them.

A little bread wouldn't do to help all those birds through winter so as he passed through the kitchen to put his little bird feeders up Dean added bird seed to Sam's grocery list.

He hung several of the feeders from the branches of nearby trees and bushes while others hung from the protruding support beams of the cottage. When Dean took a step back to admire his handiwork he congratulated himself on a job well done. For a brief moment he thought that maybe he could make some birdhouses as well. It wasn't yet winter, although it was approaching fast, so he still had time to think about it. If he were to decide to make some birdhouses he would need planks and he had no idea if there even was a hardware store in town. He'd have to make sure to ask Sam.

oo00oo00oo

Whenever Sam needed to buy groceries he usually did so after finishing work. When he got back Dean was usually in the living room. At first he had asked Dean to help him put everything away but since Sam had a very specific idea of where what should be he had shooed Dean out after less than five minutes.

Today, as Sam was putting his groceries away he suddenly paused because he thought he heard talking. He stood with a bottle of milk in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other. He waited and listened for a few moments and right when he told himself he must have imagined it he heard it again. The words were soft so he couldn't distinguish exactly what was being said but he immediately recognized Dean's voice.

Curiosity got the better of him so Sam put both bottles down on the counter and made his way over to the doorway. Dean was, or had been, reading and apparently disagreed with what was on the page. He was boldly voicing his opinion towards the article and, from what Sam heard, the writer of it. It was actually a little funny to hear him being so passionate about something like that. Sam had no idea what the article was about but it really seemed to have stroked Dean the wrong way.

Sam had a small smile on his face while he listened but it quickly fell when he heard Dean say: "Even I could do it better than you. Me, who's just a deaf, pathetic little nobody who needs his baby brother to look after him. Someone as useless as me could do better so that's saying a lot. I swear, if I find more articles written by you in current editions I will write a letter of complaint to the editorial office."

That made Sam realise Dean might not be talking out loud on purpose. Right then Dean spotted Sam from the corner of his eye. He looked up from his magazine and gave Sam a questioning look, silently asking him if there was anything he needed. This further convinced Sam of the fact that Dean wasn't in fact talking, just thinking out loud without realising simply because he couldn't hear the sound of his own voice.

The knowledge that Dean still thought so little about himself hit Sam hard, so much that he quickly shook his head before stumbling back into the kitchen and having to lean against the counter for support. It felt like someone had wrapped his hand around his heart and squeezed with all his might while someone else knocked the air out of him. He actually had to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath.

He was so certain that things had gotten better. Dean didn't have any real nightmares anymore and if he started to toss and turn Sam would wake in an instant and a gently touch to the head would calm him down immediately. He wasn't as sombre and uncaring anymore either.

Sam had seen Dean's behaviour change and he had thought that that meant he was improving, but now that he really thought about it he realised it was just that which had changed, his behaviour. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had only seen what he wanted to see but this was Dean, he could change his behaviour at the drop of a hat.

Neither of them had hunted for a while now and while Sam had quickly acclimated to normal life Dean still was a hunter through and through. Growing up he had constantly been told to hide his fear and insecurities lest the monsters pick up on them and use them against him. Even outside of hunts Dean had to keep up that façade pretty much 24/7 as John didn't really believe in sentiment, not anymore. The only times he had allowed himself some emotion was if he were alone with Sam but as he got older he more and more had to answer to the image of the cool, badass older brother.

It hurt yet Sam decided not to act on it, at least not right now. He had tried pretty much anything he could think of to help Dean but to no avail. Making a rush decision might even make things worse. No, he had to think this through, take his time.

First of all he would ignore Dean's talking as best as he could, at least when Dean could see him. If Dean wasn't aware of the fact that he was thinking out loud Sam might be able to listen in on it and find something. Dean might not want to talk to Sam but it was more than clear that he had issues and if Sam had to find out about them through less orthodox ways then so be it. If it would grant him an opportunity to help he could deal with an enraged brother afterwards if he ever found out. It wouldn't be anything new to Sam.

Dean's thoughts may not really be his business but if Dean would just admit that even he, as a big brother, needed help then Sam wouldn't have to resort to such drastic means. Sam wouldn't really like Dean sneaking a peek inside his head either but it was for the greater good.

Knowing that it served a greater cause it didn't really help to lessen the pain of the blow. If those were the things he would have to pay attention to and spit through to get to the cause Sam had no idea what state he would be in mentally afterwards.

Sam knew Dean didn't always think too highly of himself but he still had quite a big ego when it came to certain things and liked to boast, even if only to prove to himself that he was, in fact, worth something. Now he didn't even do that and the fact that he had accepted it completely and without a doubt is what was the worst. He had lost his fighting spirit, had lost almost everything he fought and stood for. It actually made Sam a little depressed just thinking about it.

Sam learned to ignore it when Dean started to talk about random, sometimes strange and silly things and pay attention when he started talking about himself without taking it to heart too much. Some of the things he heard Dean say made him completely rethink some things about him. Worst of all was the sheer nonchalance with which Dean talked about it. It was absolutely heart shattering yet from the looks of it and the way he talked you'd think Dean was talking about the weather or something.

After a certain amount of time it all became a little too much for Sam and he started to talk about it with Margery. At first he tried to be really vague and indirect about it but Margery seemed to have a sixth sense or something when it came to people needing help, even if that help was just a kind listening ear. For all the gossiping Margery did she was actually a really good listener. Every so often she'd ask if there was anything she could do but Sam always said no. The fact that she was willing to listen to him was more than enough. She agreed that there was nothing much else he could do but wait for Dean to realize it was okay to need something, especially if he needed Sam to give it to him.

Sam probably must have let it slip how much Dean loved apple pie because one day Margery showed up with a box in her hands and gave it so Sam. "For your brother." She had said with a wink when Sam asked her what the pie was for.

Ever since Dean had started thinking out loud Sam had kept a close eye on him and that hadn't escaped Dean's attention. At first he chose to ignore it, thinking that Sam must have gone back into mother hen mode for some reason.

Autumn turned to winter and the temperature dropped and still Sam was watching him like a hawk and bit by bit those look had become more and more infused with sadness and pity. That set Dean off and made him think that maybe something was going on that he had absolutely no knowledge of.

One evening he had absolutely enough of all those looks and when Sam gave him another one he almost hurled his book through the room. He stood up and roughly grabbed Sam by the arm before shoving him onto the couch and sitting down in one of the recliners himself. _"What is going on with you?" He _scrawled down before shoving the notepad towards Sam with more force than necessary.

'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.' Sam thought, 'He knows about me eavesdropping on his thoughts.' _"Nothing's going on with me. I'm perfectly fine." _He jotted down a little too quickly for Dean to really believe him.

He squinted his eyes at Sam just a little before taking back the notepad. _"Then what's up with those looks you keep giving me." _Sam's heart caught a little in his throat when he saw Dean scribbling on the pad with an angry frown.

After he read it his throat loosened a little but he had to be wary. For a second he was unsure of what to answer but not answering would be just as bad as giving a wrong answer. _"I'm not giving you any looks. At least, no more than usual, I think."_

Dean threw the notebook onto the coffee table with an agitated sigh and got up. He threw up his hands just a little, just enough for Sam to understand the gesture.

After Dean had disappeared upstairs Sam let his face fall down in his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair as he took a deep breath. Seems like he failed that one.

Sam really had no clue as to what to do from now on. It was as if fate just loathed them and, considering, she probably did. Pretty much everything he tried ended up biting him in the ass or did absolutely nothing. Sam actually felt pretty close to giving up but he knew that he'd never be able to do so.

Every evening before bed Sam doubted whether or not he should sneak into bed with Dean. On one side, it was the only time he still felt like brothers, like he still belonged with Dean and as long as Dean would cling to him, even if unconsciously so, he would keep returning. On the other hand, he got more and more worried about how Dean might react if he ever found out. Back when things were still okay between them it might not have been that big of a deal, but now.

The next day Sam tried his best to keep the looks to a minimum but he just couldn't do it and sometimes he wouldn't be able to avert his eyes in time and those smouldering green depts would suck him in for just a moment.

Things went from bad to worse. They were pretty much back to square one because Dean was completely ignoring Sam.

It grew to such a climax that at a certain point Dean actually felt claustrophobic in the house. He was pacing the living room much like a caged animal and that was a pretty good description of how he felt at the moment.

At a certain point Dean must have decided to just damn it all to hell and run away. He didn't need Sam to try and look out for him, in fact he needed no one but himself.

He must have thrown some stuff into a bag because it lay next to him on the passengers' seat when Dean realized he was driving the Impala along the interstate. It was as if the fog in his head had finally cleared up a little and allowed him to think again.

It's the first time he's driven the Impala since the accident and the thing he noticed right away is the absence of all the familiar sounds she made. Sure, he had ridden in the passenger's seat but that's something else entirely. It actually depressed him a little, all those missing little sounds, sounds he probably never would have noticed if he still had his hearing, but now he missed them.

He tried to focus on the road in an attempt to forget about the missing sound and it actually seemed to work a little. Dean had absolutely no idea where he was going but after a while he didn't really notice the silence anymore. It actually gave him a certain sense of serenity. It was actually kind of peaceful, not having all those loud, mechanical noises invading his ears.

The peacefulness didn't last long, though. After about two and a half hours Dean saw a motorway service and decided to stop. As he sat there, staring at the passing traffic he asked himself what he's doing. What exactly is it that he's running away from. He may tell himself it's Sam who's getting on his nerves by being overly worried about him, or he may say it's the normal, domestic life with nothing really to do. He may repeat it inside his head a million times and one, but that didn't make it anymore true. There were times that he willed himself so hard to believe that the way he felt was because of all those things. Every now and then he would be so close to actually believing it, he would be on the brink only to tip backwards again, landing face first into the truth.

There was no way he could run away from it yet still he had done it. A tiny part of his brain may have prompted him to do so in a last attempt to make his self-made truth real. At first he thought that he had succeeded, that he had left the truth behind him, only to realise that no matter what, the truth always caught up with you.

He couldn't run from himself, not from the way he was feeling nor all the self-pity or self-loathing that had surrounded him since the accident like a thick, impenetrable mist.

He just didn't want to see and in doing so he had pushed Sam away as well. All he wanted to do was help. He just wanted to take care of him like Dean had done so many times before. Why did he always have to be so goddamn stubborn. Sure, at times it may be his greatest strength but at the same it was also his biggest weakness. If he ignored it all and denied help it might just stop and go away, but when had that actually ever worked.

Dean let out a choked chuckle and only then did he realize he was crying. It wasn't his eyes he had lost, so why had he been so blind. While he wiped away his tears he felt how hard he was actually shaking. He clamped his hands around the steering wheel so he wouldn't have to see it and sat in the car for a little while longer, just until he was certain he had calmed down enough to drive again. Right then he took a deep breath, let a small smile make its way up onto his lips and whispered: "I'm coming home, Sammy." before driving the Impala back the way they had come.

When Sam got back home from work he had found a note saying, _"I'm sorry."_ in Dean's handwriting with a small wood carving of an owl on top of it. He hadn't noticed it at first but now he realised that he hadn't seen the Impala outside. Clutching the note and the owl he searched the entire house for any indication where Dean might have gone. All he found was a missing bag as well as a half-empty closet in Dean's room. Fear gnawed deep in his gut.

Sam was unable to keep still and he was just walking through the house, garden and even up and down the driveway a little while he kept dialling Dean's phone and leaving voicemail messages. By the time an hour had passed he was completely frantic and unable to really think straight anymore.

He thought about going into town and asking every single person if they had seen a Chevy '67 Impala drive by. He was just about to do that when he realised that Dean had probably avoided the town so as not to risk Sam spotting him by accident, and even if someone had seen Dean the trails would end there. That would only give him a vague direction and since the interstate was relatively close by Dean could have driven anywhere from there.

Sam kept running the little wooden owl between his hands while he paced and tried to think of what to do next. He had checked to see if he could track the GPS in Dean's phone but of course it wasn't on. Short of giving Dean up as missing Sam had no idea what else to do and considering their past even that probably wouldn't work.

He tried to call several more times but they all went straight to voicemail like before. Sam was in the process of leaving what had to be the thirtieth message and almost dropped his phone when he thought he heard the familiar purr of the Impala. He told himself it could be any Impala driving down the road but it didn't stop his throat from tightening nor the butterflies in his stomach to die down.

Nervousness caused his entire body to positively vibrate. Knuckles whitening around the owl and with closed eyes Sam prepared for disappointment. All he was doing was imagining the sound of the Impala and in a few seconds that car would pass and Dean would still be gone.

When the sound, however, didn't fade out but got louder instead Sam snapped open his eyes. The Impala was making its way over towards the house with Dean behind the wheel. Sam dropped his phone, the note and the little owl and let it all clatter to the ground while he ran towards the front door and almost tore it off its hinges in his attempt to get outside.

Dean had brought the Impala to a stop right when Sam tore out of the house. When Dean stepped out of the car Sam slowed his step and stared at both him and the Impala as if uncertain if they were actually real. He let his fingers glide over the Impala's hood for a second before stopping right in front of Dean.

Dean was just about to say something when Sam hit him right in the face. Dean actually stumbled because of the force of impact and fell back against the Impala. Before he could even process what had just happened Sam had already pulled him back up and wrapped in his arms.

Sam's grip on him was pretty much choking Dean but when he was about to push him away he could feel Sam shaking around him. Instead he wrapped his arms around Sam and kept whispering: "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry, but I'm back now."

When Sam finally let go he was smiling brightly with tears streaming down his cheeks. He still had his hands on Dean's shoulders, even when Dean wiped away the tears. Dean was smiling and a little teary eyed as well.

It was as if Sam didn't want to let go of Dean for fear that he would disappear again. Even when Dean took out his hastily packed bag Sam made sure to keep at least one hand on Dean or at least hold on onto his shirt.

Sam looked terrible and when they entered the house Dean immediately noticed the complete disarray the living and dining room was in. Dean felt absolutely horrible for doing something like this. Sam must have been in a real frenzy judging from the state both him and the house were in. All his life Dean had vowed never to hurt Sam and now he had gone and done it, and for what? All because he was too stubborn and prideful to accept a little help. Just because he was miserable Sam had to be too. Right there and then Dean swore never to be the cause of worry, pain or anything else for Sam ever again.

A notebook lay on the table and Sam was about to reach out for it when Dean grabbed his wrist and softly shook his head. After taking a deep breath he looked up and right into Sam's eyes. Sam stared right back. "Sammy. I … I can't do this on my own. I'm sorry for what I did and the way I acted. Would you please help me."

After that, the first thing Sam did was pick up his phone, the note and the owl. The phone he placed on the table and with the note and owl in hand he made his way over towards the fireplace, straightening things out here and there.

Once he stood in front of the fireplace Sam placed the little wooden owl on top of mantle and ripped the note into tiny little pieces and threw it onto the ashes of last night's fire. He grabbed a few handfuls of kindling and threw it in on top of it before grabbing the lighter they kept on the mantle and lighting the fire.


	7. The Gain of Love and Acceptance

It took Dean a few days to get completely comfortable with the changed situation. He was a little unsure about how things would be from now on and it was still a little hard for him to admit to himself that he was deaf and would probably never hunt again. It was a little surreal at first but after a while Dean started to realise his mind-set got less gloomy. He stopped focussing so much about what he couldn't do and as a result started to enjoy other things much more again.

The thing that had probably changed the most was how they spent their time after dinner. Sam would still light the fire but instead of reading he and Dean talked. When Sam had first mentioned it Dean dreaded it. He may be okay with accepting help from Sam but he didn't yet feel completely comfortable talking about the way he had been feeling or what he had been thinking. It was a little hard on Dean when he talked about his fears and how useless he felt for the first time. When he started to list all the negative things about himself Sam quickly countered by saying three positive things about Dean for every negative. However, worst of all was when Sam had asked him about the nightmares.

Dean was surprised Sam knew about those since he had never said anything. When Sam told him how loud he'd sometimes get Dean averted his gaze and twiddled his fingers some. In the end Dean asked if they could talk about something else and keep the nightmares for another night. His reasoning was that he hadn't really had one in quite a while, at least not a really bad one. Sam agreed.

It made Sam think that if he could get Dean to talk about the nightmares he might know the real cause. Dean had talked about everything else pretty quickly after a little prompting from Sam. If Dean would still have been having nightmares he might have tried a little harder to get Dean to talk that evening. The fact that, even if Dean didn't know about it, he was able to help out was enough for Sam, at least for now.

Sam was glad Dean had finally decided to accept his help but he was a little hesitant to just cheer and stop worrying. He was afraid he might have made the decision on a whim and would just fall back within a few days or weeks. When that however didn't seem to happen Sam became more and more at ease with everything.

Up until he found the little wooden owl Sam really had no idea Dean had started, and seemed to enjoy, carving wood. It was actually nice to see Dean do something he enjoyed and was proud of. At first it had just been the owl keeping an eye on them from on top of the mantle but slowly he was joined by others. Every now and then Sam would come home and find a new little animal sitting on the mantle. Dean never said anything when he added one but Sam noticed the smile on his face, which he always tried to hide, and the twinkle in his eyes when Sam went over and picked them up.

One day, though, Sam was pleasantly surprised, but not because Dean had made another wooden animal. No, when Sam got home he found Dean reading one of his books on sign language. Sam didn't point it out or mention it because Dean had been so vehemently against it before. Not that it would've mattered, not really.

At first Dean just asked the one question and then continued on with his reading. A little while later he went up to Sam to ask another. It carried on like this for a bit, just single, little questions that started to come closer and closer after one another. By the time they sat down in front of the fireplace after dinner Dean was asking away and judging from the sort of things he asked he seemed to be genuinely interested, not just because Sam was.

Sam happily provided Dean with the answers. At a certain point he carefully and indirectly asked Dean if he might be interested in learning and to his great surprise Dean said yes.

That's how their after dinner talking sessions turned to lessons in sign language. To be honest they were actually more than just lessons or practise hours. It was a time where the two of them could do something together and enjoy it. It wasn't lessons like in school or anything, they may have started out that way a little, but it was just fun mostly.

It was during those evenings that Sam realised that if Dean had actually run away he would have lost more than just a brother and a best friend. He would've lost everything. Him and Dean, they belonged together. Dean had pretty much been the only constant in his life, the one person he could rely on no matter what, the one who would keep him safe and the one he looked up to. He had never really thought much about the future before. In their previous line of work the future wasn't always an option. Both of them knew that, but now, now it was, and no matter what, somehow Sam just couldn't imagine life without Dean by his side.

Little by little Dean got his self-confidence back and he started to believe in himself again. One day he even decided that he wanted to go to the grocery instead of letting Sam go. Sam was a little doubtful and asked if he might just want to come with him instead. Dean had said that wasn't necessary and that Sam should just go for a walk or a run if he wanted since he had been complaining that since he started working at the library he hadn't had as much time to go as often as he liked. Sam was still a little unsure but Dean made it clear that he was more than capable of doing something like buying groceries.

Eventually Sam gave in and even though he was a little worried he was also happy to see Dean willingly get out of the house. Sam made sure to check and see if everything they needed was on the list before handing it to Dean and going upstairs to change. He loved to run in winter because although the cold winter air may be cold at first it was so crisp and clean that it always made Sam feel as if he had been reborn.

The closer he got to town the more nervous Dean got. He wanted to prove to both Sam and himself that he could go outside and go someplace in the presence of people. It was weird because he had absolutely no idea of how people would react. When he finally reached the town people just walked past him without even looking at him while he made his way over towards the store. He was just so used to having Sam around who knew about his deafness that he had forgotten that people who had never met him didn't know. It wasn't like there was some sign hanging from his neck proclaiming his deafness.

He actually felt a lot better because of that. The whole time he was in the store nothing happened until a guy suddenly grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Dean had absolutely no idea what was going on and felt panicked. He had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about and while Dean had gotten a bit better a reading lips because of Sam the guy was talking way too fast and angrily for Dean to understand much aside from a random word here and there.

What he did understand was when the guy seemed to get even angrier because he wasn't answering and shouted: "Are you deaf or what!"

Dean actually straightened his back a little after that. "Yes. As a matter of fact, yes, I am."

The man's eyes widened a little after that and he stood with his mouth open trying to find something to say before he quickly lowered his head and apologized before leaving. Dean still had absolutely no idea what all that had been about and despite that fact that that guy was now gone it had made him feel a little uncomfortable. He quickly got the rest of his groceries because he really wanted to go back home. Luckily there weren't that many customers so he was quickly back outside.

By the time he got back home Sam wasn't home yet. For a moment Dean stood turning around in the kitchen next to the shopping bags while he tried to decide if he should just go ahead and put everything away but risk incurring Sam's wrath for not putting everything where it belonged or to wait and just leave it all to Sam. In the end he opted to just go ahead and try to put everything in its rightful place as best as he could. Sam pretty much did everything already and never complained and as soon as Dean thought about that he felt a little guilty.

Next Dean knew it was dark outside and nearing dinner time and Sam still wasn't back yet. Not that it worried Dean too much. Sam would sometimes say he'd go for a short run or walk and completely lose track of time. Dean had asked him about it once and Sam had answered that it was kind of like meditating to him. He'd either get lost in his own mind or nothing at all and barely noticed anything happening around him, not even the fading daylight.

It was a clear sky and the moon was almost full when Dean looked outside so he wasn't worried about Sam losing his way. Dean closed the curtains all around the house like they did every night and on a bit of a whim decided that he was going to make dinner. He was starting to get hungry and no doubt Sam would be too by the time he got back.

He spent a good ten minutes rummaging through the fridge and cabinets decided what he was going to make. In the end he decided on simple spaghetti. He got out a pot and filled it with water and a pinch of salt before putting it on the stove and waiting for it to boil.

That's about when Sam got back. He could hear noise coming from the kitchen so he made his way over to investigate. When he saw Dean behind the stove he cracked a smile and leaned against the doorframe, watching.

It wasn't until Dean turned around to get himself something to drink that he noticed Sam and jumped a little. He narrowed his eyes at Sam and dramatically brought a hand up to his chest. Sam rolled his eyes but his smile widened. He shook his head just a little before signing that he could take over if Dean wanted. Dean shook his head and motioned for Sam to just go shower.

Sam probably gave Dean the biggest smile ever right there and then. Dean couldn't help but smile back before he made a shooing motion and turned back to the stove to stir the spaghetti sauce. Sam actually got a bit of a love-struck look in his eyes as he watched Dean for a second more before going upstairs.

That night by the fire they didn't talk or practise their signing. Sam sat reading while Dean was carving a piece of wood. It had started to snow right after they finished dinner. The snow outside and the gentle crackling of the fire made the little cottage feel more like home than ever before. The faint, reddish glow that was struggling to reach the back of the room accentuated the look of utter concentration of Dean's face. Sam lifted his eyes from the words on the page when he heard Dean start to hum. Softly at first but soon enough it filled the entire room with a gently, familiar tune. It was just loud enough to be audible above the sound of the fire yet not so loud as to be distracting.

Sam started to smile just like he had before whenever Dean would hum to him as a child. It had always made him feel safe and it still did. Dean probably didn't even know he was doing it. After Dean had started to talk to Sam he had stopped thinking out loud bit by bit. That was a good thing because the less Dean thought out loud, the less it meant he was doubting himself. The fact that he was humming right now and probably didn't even realise was good, more than good even. It meant Dean wasn't worried about anything, that he was happy and content, here, in their little cottage, together.

Sam tried to continue reading but every few paragraphs his eyes would drift from the words and towards Dean's face. The way the fire's glow caressed his face like gentle fingers, lapping at it with blazing tongues of light and heat. A play of light and shadow that made Sam really see Dean and realize how beautiful he was. The way the flames reflected in his eyes, the small furrow between his brows while he shaped the wood, the strength in his jaw, the fullness of his lips.

When he realised he was staring and the turn his thoughts had taken Sam felt his cheeks redden. He quickly averted his eyes back to the pages of his book.

Sam tried to ignore it but from that moment on he started to notice all these little things about Dean that he never did before, like for instance how cute he looks right after he wakes up. He also find his thoughts straying to him more and more often and not always in ways that it should and he missed having Dean around while he was at work. On top of it all he found himself blushing way more that any grown man should. He went out of his way to do or get things he knew Dean would like. All the thanks and smiles he got in return weren't really helping either. For once Sam actually took advice from the Dean Winchester school of dealing with stuff and told himself it was probably just because of their new domestic life together and the fact that Dean seemed to finally be happy with it.

One night however, Sam thought that it had all been for naught and that he would now lose Dean for real. Sam had made hot chocolate the previous evening and as was to be expected Dean had drunk too many cups of it. At around one in the morning Dean woke because his bladder was about to burst.

He was a little confused the moment he woke up because he didn't remember his blanket being quite so heavy, or having that much hair. That's when he realised someone was in bed with him and he panicked a little. When his eyes adjusted just enough to the darkness that he could more or less see he realised that it wasn't just someone, it was Sam. Dean had to pry to get Sam's arms from around him before he could even think of squirming his way out from underneath him.

The squirming managed to wake Sam up just when Dean was almost free. Groggily Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Dean?" He murmured before his eyes went wide and he realised what was going on. "Dean!" Sam scrambled to get out of the bed but in his haste all he ended up doing was tangling himself up into the blanket and falling to the floor.

Dean flipped on the light switch and waited for Sam to untangle himself. "Why the hell are you sleeping in my bed?" Dean demanded with an angry scowl.

"The nightmares." Sam signed. "When I'm here they-" Sam was interrupted by Dean roughly yanking him to his feet and shoving him into the hallway with a shouted "Out!".

Sam winced a little when the door was slammed closed behind him. 'It was bound to happen sooner or later.' Sam thought, although he would have preferred later. His mind was reeling with thoughts about how things would go from now on as he made his way over to his own bedroom. When Sam crawled underneath the covers the bed felt cold and foreign to him

He lay tossing and turning with worry for god knows how long. When he was half-asleep the door opened just enough to let a sliver of moonlight from the hallway sneak in quickly followed by the hesitant steps of two feet. Sam opened his eyes and spotted Dean making his way over to the bed. Their eyes crossed for a moment before Dean squeezed into Sam's bed. "Couldn't sleep." Dean murmured as an explanation, eyes averted.

The bed was too small for two grown men but they made do. Sam flipped on the lamp on the bedside table, causing both of them to squeeze their eyes shut for a moment against the bright light.

"They told me I was useless, not worth anything. That I wouldn't be able to protect you anymore. They showed me you getting hurt or killed because of me, or you running away because I'm just a burden to you. Again and again. Those voices, they showed me all the people I didn't save and the ones I never will. They told me I should just go and kill myself because I let them get killed."

Sam was silent while Dean told him all about his nightmares. All he did was sit up a little against the headboard and almost instantly Dean lay his head down against Sam's chest. Sam didn't interrupt or ask him for clarification, he just listened while he ran his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean was crying and had pretty much completely broken down by the end. Sam just kept running his fingers through Dean's hair, even when he had finally fallen asleep. "Nothing's going to harm you ever again, Dean, not as long as I'm here to protect you." Sam whispered.

It was then that Sam realised that whatever it was he had been feeling towards Dean wasn't simply a result of them living together, it was love. Unconditional, burning love. Deep down he had known it already. He was finally ready to admit it and in that moment he vowed to make sure Dean would never in his entire life have to worry about anything ever again. He kissed Dean on top of his head and switched off the light before going to sleep himself.

That morning when they woke up their limbs were completely tangled and Dean still lay pretty much completely on top of Sam, partially because the bed was just too small. There wasn't any awkwardness between them like Sam had expected there to be. Dean actually woke up first and spent the next few minutes watching Sam before he woke up as well. "Thank you." Dean said before getting off of Sam. Sam just shook his head a little and then made pancakes for breakfast.

oo00oo00oo

Christmas came and went. It was a little affair. Not that much different from every other day except for the fact that Sam, with help from Dean, made a pretty big dinner. There were even several small pies in a whole array of flavours because when Sam asked Dean what kind he wanted he changed his mind every five minutes. As a result Sam just made all of them.

For presents Sam had gotten Dean a bunch of woodcarving tools. When he had unpacked it neither of them really had any idea what the majority of them were for but luckily there was a little booklet included with it and there was still the internet. Dean's present for Sam was still a work in progress but Sam didn't really care.

Dean had once asked Sam to bring back a pretty big flat piece of wood from the hardware store he had found out they did indeed have in town. At the time Sam hadn't questioned it and he had pretty much forgotten all about it until Dean showed him what he had been working on.

He was carving out something to hang on the empty spot above the fireplace. Originally a painting had hung there but for some reason he couldn't name Sam absolutely hated it. He had removed it and ever since he had been complaining about the empty spot where it had been every now and then.

Dean apologized for it not being ready, he had miscalculated the time it would take to finish it. Sam told him he shouldn't. It was gorgeous already and he didn't care about when it would be finished, he was just happy he would have something to fill up that empty spot.

Margery had called Sam that day as well to wish them both a merry Christmas and invite them to celebrate with her and her family. Sam politely declined and Dean agreed with him. They didn't want to intrude and while Sam knew Margery pretty well Dean didn't and neither of them knew the rest of her family. Dean was still a little scared of interacting with people he didn't know and a party with a full house probably wouldn't do him much good. Besides, it was pretty nice, just the two of them in their little cottage without that big of a deal most people made out of Christmas.

There was a pretty thick layer of snow outside and while Dean enjoyed watching it fall and how it made everything as one, it made Sam's walk into and from town longer. Dean had told him he could take the Impala if he wanted but Sam refused. He said it wasn't worth it to take a car for such a short end.

As a result Sam had to get up a little earlier each day. At first Dean just stayed in bed until it was time for him to wake up but after a few days he just woke up with Sam. He was never going to admit it out loud but he actually missed the comforting weight and warmth of Sam's body next to him.

Dean mentally hit himself upside the head that first morning Sam got up earlier. He was angry with himself for actually thinking something like that and as soon as Sam had been out of bed for grabbing the blankets and cuddling them while inhaling Sam's scent in an attempt to trick his mind into thinking he was still there. He wasn't some tween chick who needed her boyfriend next to her to feel safe and be able to sleep.

As much as Dean may enjoy the time on his own when Sam was off to work, recently he had been missing him quite a bit. Not that the things they did when Sam was home were so much more exciting, everything was just more fun with Sam around. It gave him a sense of belonging.

It wasn't until Dean had showered and gotten dressed after Sam left for work and had read some chapters of one of the new books Sam had brought him that he realised that, unconsciously, he had dressed in one of Sam's shirts. The only reason he ended up noticing it was because the sleeves were too long and kept falling down. That's when Dean's mind skidded to a halt for a split second and his first thought was: 'Oh God, I'm a teenage girl.'

The book tumbled down onto the couch and Dean got up and started to pace. His brain reeled in search of counter arguments. 'Sure, we live together and sleep in the same bed, but that's all, isn't it. And, okay, I might miss him when he's at the library but that's only natural, I only want him next to me all the time to look after him and make sure he's okay. See, that's also why I accidentally put on his shirt, protective brother instinct. He's my little brother, I've gotta look after him. It's not like I'm in love with him or something.'

Dean let out an awkward little laugh before he let himself fall into one of the recliners. "Oh God, I'm in love with my brother." He said with a shocked look on his face.

Dean being Dean chose to completely ignore his epiphany. He told himself it would just go away in time and even if it didn't there was just no way Sam would ever feel the same way. Best to just ignore it and carry on as if nothing had happened.

Two days after this all Dean went outside to refill their almost empty crate of firewood when he found a small cat huddled beside it. It looked up at Dean with big yellow eyes and let out a miserable meow. "Are you cold?" Dean asked while he slowly sank down so as not to frighten the animal. "You must be." Dean watched as its little pink mouth opened again and again, chin vibrating just the tiniest bit with every meow.

Dean extended a hand and let the cat sniff his fingers before he extended his other one as well and scooped it up in one fluid motion. The cat pressed itself as close as possible against Dean's chest the moment Dean cradled it in his arms in desperate search of warmth.

Dean held the kitten - because it still kind of was, Dean was no expert on cats be he could see that this one wasn't fully grown yet – close to his chest and scratched it behind its ears while he brought it inside. By the time he had put the cat down on the rug in front of the fireplace it had started to purr and Dean had to smile almost instantly because even though he might not be able to hear it, he could feel it.

As soon as he let go the cat looked back up at him with its big eyes. Dean gave it a quick stroke on the head before putting the last remaining blocks of wood and some kindling into the fireplace and lighting it. He sneezed which caused the cat to startle a bit but not enough for it to get up and run away from the growing warmth.

The kitten had been cold all over and when he had petted it Dean had felt that the tips of its fur had been frozen. Now that he took a closer look at the cat he saw that it was shivering and as soon as he had the fire blazing he grabbed a towel from the kitchen and sat down with the cat in his lap, towelling off the ice as it melted.

The kitten purred pretty much the entire time and a little while after it had been completely dry and stopped shivering it had fallen asleep. By that time Dean's nose was running something fierce and his eyes were all red and teary.

After a bit Dean carefully moved the cat from his lap and back onto the rug. He had to pee rather urgently and felt like he needed at least five or so boxes of Kleenex. He knew he shouldn't have taken the cat it but it just looked so lost and lonely and the fact that he could just feel it purr underneath his hands as he stroked it had just felt so amazing. He knew the sound a purring cat made and while he felt the vibrations against his palm it was almost as if he could actually hear them.

By the time Dean could see clearly again and went back downstairs Sam just came in through the front door. Sam took one look at Dean and quickly threw his bag to the ground while he rushed over. In a second he had Dean's head between his hands and was looking him over. Dean just shook his head a little before grabbing Sam's wrists and pulling his arms away. "What happened?" Sam signed. All he got as a response was a goofy grin from Dean while he pointed towards the rug.

Sam raised an eyebrow because the small coffee table obscured his vision. After looking back at Dean one more time he made his way over and stopped as soon as he spotted the cat. The cat must have heard him approach because it lifted his head and blinked sleepily before yawning.

Sam kept staring at the kitten for a few more moments before turning to Dean. Dean still had than overjoyed and goofy grin on his face and just shrugged. "I can almost hear him purr when I put my hand on his back."

That was all Sam needed to break out in a smile himself. Dean's allergy was pretty bad, especially with a cat inside the house. He hated seeing Dean like this but if he was willing to suffer through it Sam couldn't possibly tell him to get rid of the cat, not after he saw the smile such a small animal had brought to his face.

However, tomorrow he would stop by the local pharmacy and ask if they had anything for cat allergies.

After having scratched the cat a little behind his ears Sam finally took off his coat. "Have you got a name for him already?" Sam signed when he passed Dean. Dean shook his head but even though the smile was still there a look of deep thought had joined it. He blew his nose and walked over towards the kitten.

It had lain curled up in a tight little ball ever since Dean had brought it in but now he had stretched out as long as he could. The cat was a pale grey with thick black stripes all over its legs as well as a handful of them scattered across his body. His ears were black as well but his tail and head were just plain grey.

The kitten rolled over a few times before settling on its back so his belly could warm. While he rolled Dean thought the thick black stripes moved a little like shadows, especially with the light of the flickering fire. "Shadow." Dean murmured. The cat looked up at him and slowly blinked once before going back to sleep. "Shadow it is then."

Shadow was a little shy when it came to Sam the first few days. He absolutely adored Dean and never strayed far from him except at night. Sam had put his foot down and told Dean that the cat wasn't allowed upstairs so that Dean would be able to sleep in relative peace at night without having to worry about choking on his own snot.

Just as Sam had intended to do he had passed by the local pharmacy the next day. They gave him something that should alleviate Dean's symptoms. He hadn't mentioned it to Dean and when he got back from work he just put the pills on the table for Dean to find. Dean never mentioned them to Sam either. He just took them and sent Sam a smile whenever he looked at him.

The pills helped Dean out tremendously but only for a few days. Having a cat constantly in the house wasn't really what they were intended for. Dean's allergy wasn't as bad as it could have been because of them but it was still enough for him to suffer.

One evening Shadow refused the food Dean set in front of him. Instead he started to throw up, and not just throwing up like with a hairball, but actual vomiting. He then ran away from Dean when he tried to pick him up to lay in front of the fire.

Dean looked at Sam with worry in his eyes. He didn't know that much about cats but that wasn't normal, right. Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean didn't sleep very well that night and in the morning he was awake earlier than usual. He snuck out of bed so as not to wake Sam and hastily made his way downstairs. As soon as Dean spotted Shadow he freaked. Shadow's back legs and tail were all bloody and Dean could see him gnawing on them. Dean ran into the kitchen, tore a towel from the tower rack and started to dap away the blood. He expected Shadow to hiss or spit at him because it must hurt but he just lay there.

Not knowing what to do Dean wrapped the towel around the cat and scooped him up in his arms before rushing upstairs. "Sam!" He yelled. "Sam!" Sam startled awake and even though he was sleep dazed, one look at Dean and the bloody cat in his arms had him jumping out of bed. "We've gotta take him to the vet, Sam!" Dean cried, tears shining in his eyes. Sam nodded before quickly putting on his boots before taking over the cat so Dean could do the same. As soon as he was done Dean took back Shadow and hurried downstairs. Sam managed to grab their coats and the keys to the Impala while hurrying after Dean.

Dean was almost desperately clutching onto Shadow while Sam drove. A few minutes later they drove into town and Sam parked right in front of the vet's. The impala wasn't even fully parked yet or Dean had already jumped out and rushed into the office.

Sam quickly followed and once he got inside he found Dean screaming for someone to help Shadow. The vet, a middle-aged man who Sam had seen at the library a few times turned to Sam and asked him if he wanted to come with him to explain what happened. Sam nodded and signed for Dean to stay in the waiting room until he had calmed down a bit. Dean looked at Sam for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. He finally let the vet take Shadow from his arms and sank down into one of the chairs almost immediately.

Sam followed the vet into the examination room and told him about how Shadow hadn't wanted to eat last night and had then vomited. He didn't really think it was that big of a deal until Dean had found him like this a little while ago.

The vet nodded while the looked Shadow over before finally asking if his vaccinations were up to date. Sam told him no and explained how Dean had found the cat besides the woodshed. That's when the vet sighed and looked Sam straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry. He's got feline distemper. It's relatively common among unvaccinated cats and since you said that he was probably a stray. There's nothing I can do."

Sam's whole body sagged as he extended his hand to scratch Shadow behind his ears. "All I can do is make it so he won't have to suffer anymore." The vet added.

Sam nodded with tears in his eyes. "I've gotta tell Dean." He murmured before walking out into the waiting room.

"Is he going to be okay?" Dean asked while he jumped up, hope clear in his voice. "Sam? Sammy?" Sam just grabbed Dean and wrapped him in his arms. "He's going to be okay? Right, Sammy?" When Sam just squeezed him a little harder Dean grabbed the back of Sam's coat. "No, no no no no. There's gotta be something they can do. They can't just let him die."

Sam shook his head before whispering: "I'm sorry." against Dean's shoulder. Dean hugged Sam a little harder.

"Can I be with him?" Dean eventually asked. Sam released Dean and nodded before grabbing his hand and leading him into the examination room.

The entire time Dean kept one hand laced with Sam's while the other kept stroking the soft fur on top of Shadow's head.

Luckily for Sam today was a Sunday or else he would have been late for work. Not that he would have gone either way. One look at Dean's face when they stepped outside told him that much. He didn't speak a word the entire ride home and he just stared blankly in front of him. Dean may have only had Shadow for a few days but from the first moment Sam had seen that he had been completely smitten with the cat. The fact that he didn't even complain about his allergy once was proof of that. He would probably never understand how much it had meant to Dean to be able to feel him purr but the constant smile he had worn for the past few days gave him an idea.

Sam had actually started to enjoy the cat's company as well once it took a liking to him. Shadow obviously preferred Dean but every now and then he'd crawl into Sam's lap or sit on the far end of the counter while he cooked and whenever he came home Shadow came running to tell Sam all about his day with Dean. It had been kind of funny to hear him meow his head off for a bit before he would stroll back over to Dean.

Sam was glad the house wasn't too far because as soon as he thought about not having Shadow welcome him home anymore he felt tears sting behind his eyes. Dean had asked the vet if he could take Shadow's body back home so he could bury him in the yard. The body was wrapped tightly in the towel Dean had carried him with and the whole ride he was holding onto it with a dead grip.

Sam had told Dean that the ground was most likely frozen solid and that there was no way he'd be able to dig a hole deep enough to bury Shadow in. Dean had then shook his head and told Sam he was planning on giving him a hunter's funeral because he was sure that, once it got warmer, Shadow would have come home with tons of birds, mice and maybe even a few squirrels.

When Sam parked Dean didn't move, he just kept sitting in his seat with a blank look in his eyes. Sam gently placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. That seemed to snap him out of it and he finally got out of the car after giving Sam the slightest of nods.

He didn't go inside but went straight for the back of the house. Dean carefully put Shadow down next to the woodshed, the place where he had found him and started to assemble a little funeral pyre in the middle of the yard.

Sam did go inside but he returned not much later with a lighter and a small canister of oil. Dean made quick work of the pyre and after he lit it both of them watched for a while until the bitter cold caught up with them. They were both still in their pyjamas and even though they both had on their coats the cold seeped through pretty fast.

Dean briskly turned around and made his way over towards the house with tears rolling down his cheeks. Sam was crying as well. He took a deep breath and wiped away his tears before going after Dean to see if there was anything he could do to comfort him.

Sam managed to catch a glimpse of Dean going upstairs and followed. He had to step around Dean's boots which he had kicked off halfway through the hallway and his coat had been thrown onto the bedroom floor. Dean had crawled back into bed and lay buried underneath the blankets.

Sam took off his shoes and coat as well and crawled into bed with Dean. Dean immediately latched onto him with a rather severe grip. Even though it hurt a little Sam didn't pry away Dean's hands. Sam just held him and ran a hand up and down his back even until after Dean had slipped into an uneasy sleep.

oo00oo00oo

The next day when Sam arrived at the library Margery noticed right away something was wrong. She grabbed him by the bicep, pulled him over towards the desk and pushed him down on a chair before quickly getting him a cup of coffee. "Tell me." She said, dragging a chair over so she could sit right in front of Sam. Sam just shrugged a little and tried to buy some time by busying himself with his coffee. He knew that didn't work on Margery yet he still did it anyway, more to compose his own thoughts than anything else.

He finally looked up at her face and told her all about Dean and Shadow and how happy he had been. "I should have just taken him to the vet that same night. Maybe then he'd still be alive."

Margery placed a hand on his arms and rubbed it a little. "Even if you had, it wouldn't have made any difference." She said. "Feline distemper. That's a nasty disease. It kills within a day of infection and treatment is pretty brutal, especially on a kitten, even then survival chances are still pretty slim. Please don't blame yourself, Sam."

"Thank you, Margery." Sam said after a moment of silence. He did feel a little better knowing that there was really nothing he could have done. It was also a relief to hear that, since the disease worked so quick, Shadow hadn't been suffering for days before. He had been worrying about that.

"Now then. I might have an idea. You said Dean was allergic, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. It had to be hell on him, he looked absolutely horrible but he didn't care because he was so happy." Sam smiled a little at the memory.

Margery hummed at that. "My sister, Rosemary, she's allergic to cats as well, _but_, she breeds Balinese cats. They're hypoallergenic which means they produce less of the protein that are the cause of cat allergies. You see, she may have a house full of cats but her allergy barely ever plays up."

That got Sam's attention and he sat up a little straighter. "You mean to say that if we got one of those Dean could have a cat without having to suffer because of his allergies?"

Margery nodded. "Pretty much. If you're interested, my sister had a litter a little while ago."

Sam frowned a little. "I don't know. I don't think he'd like me to bring a kitten home so soon after Shadow. It's not like I just want to replace him."

Margery nodded. "I understand that. After my cat died I didn't want a new one right away either. However, those kittens are all still too young to be separated from their mother so you don't have to decide right now. I'm just giving you an option here."

Sam gave her another smile. He did think Dean might like to have another cat in house, especially if he wouldn't have to suffer through his allergies. "Is there a possibility for me to take a look at them?"

"Certainly." Margery said. "She lives just a few houses away from the library. I could take you after we close up."

Sam accepted the offer and two minutes after he had met Rosemary he found himself cooing at the nest of kittens. They were five awkward little things of about a month old with legs that seemed too long for them and a fluffy coat of baby fur. They were absolutely precious and by the time he left Sam was pretty confident he would return in a few weeks to take one of those little fluff balls home.

Dean was pretty much heartbroken the first few days after Shadow's death but he bounced back pretty quickly. Sometimes he would catch a shadow from the corner of his eye and think it was Shadow but that was about it. He did end up carving a series of wooden cats of varying sizes that looked like shadow.

Sam hadn't told Dean anything about Rosemary or her cats but a month later he stopped by her house after work and bought one of the kittens. It was a little lynx point and Sam had pretty much fallen in love with her as soon as he spotted her that first time. He had watched her for a bit while she played with one of her brothers and every time she had come up victorious. Her brothers would always cower down in front of her with their tails between their legs after a while and she'd put up her head and strut away. Her eyes were the brightest blue Sam had ever seen and he was sure she was absolutely perfect for Dean.

When he got home Sam looked through the window first so he could see where Dean was before going inside. He snuck up behind Dean as carefully as possible because even though he was deaf he somehow always knew whenever Sam was close. Lucky for Sam Dean was completely absorbed in the book he was reading so Sam quickly unzipped his coat to take out the kitten and plop it into Dean's lap from behind him.

Dean startled and quickly whirled his head around to stare at Sam. This time it was Sam who was grinning like a loon. Dean's eyes quickly reverted back to the kitten in his lap who just stayed lying in the position she had fallen in. She let out a long meow before getting up so she could sniff Dean. She cowered a little when Dean lifted a hand but when he just held it out towards her she extended her neck and sniffed his fingers before giving them a lick. A smile broke out on Dean's face. "Sammy, he's gorgeous."

Sam had sat himself down on the couch beside Dean and shook his head before signing "She."

Dean nodded and started to pet her. "Well aren't you a pretty little lady, then."

Sam watched Dean and the kitten for a bit before tapping him on the shoulder and signing: "She's a pretty much allergy free breed."

Dean's smile seemed to widen at that. "You see that, you little fluff ball? You're not going to turn me into half a zombie!"

Sam got into the playing as well but after a while the kitten yawned and curled up between the two of them to take a nap. "Thank you." Dean said, looking Sam in the eye. Sam just shook his head a little.

Even though she was asleep Dean kept petting her. "What's her name?" Sam shrugged and signed for Dean to pick one.

Dean immediately shook his head. "No no no, Sammy. You pick one." Sam just looked at Dean for a moment before lightly scrunching up his face while he thought.

"Aradia." He finally spelled out.

"Aradia, huh." Dean said softly before turning towards the kitten. "Is your name Aradia? Yes, yes it is." He concluded after tilting his head a little to get a better look at her face.

Sam thought that even though the name may be a bit double it fit. Aradia was often called the Queen of the Witches, though not the evil ones like those they had hunted so many times before. She herself wasn't exactly a witch, though. She was a goddess of Italian origin. She was the goddess of protection, fear and security, something Sam found awfully fitting, and she could turn into a cat. Little Aradia looked pretty much like a goddess in Sam's eyes. She was feisty and with her long legs and bushy tail there wasn't really any other was to describe her.

Dean brought Sam back from the depts of his mind by grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. The moment Dean pulled him up from the couch was a little awkward because Sam was taller than him but it worked out.

Dean was hugging Sam within an inch of his life and whispered "Thank you." one more time before looking up to look Sam in the eyes. Both were smiling like idiots and without consciously having given his body the command to do so Sam leaned forward and kissed Dean. Dean pulled back in shock and just stared at Sam with wide eyes, thoughts going a mile a minute inside his head.

Sam's eyes widened in shock as well because only then did he realise what he had just done. He stood frozen, his mouth moving open and closed in an attempt to find something to say or do. Just when he was about to bolt the shock on Dean's face melted into a smile once again and a split second later he had grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and was kissing him. Almost instantly Sam's entire body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around Dean.

Neither of them knew how long they stood there kissing but Sam pulled away when he felt a pair of tiny claws piece into his leg through his pants. Apparently Aradia had woken and didn't like having none of the attention directed towards her. Dean actually laughed at how cute she looked holding herself up against Sam's leg while lightly squinting those bright blue eyes. Dean quickly pecked Sam on the lips before letting go to scoop up Aradia. Only then he seemed to realise what had just happened a blushed. He quickly lifted up Aradia in an attempt to hide his face from Sam whose face was dusted red as well.

After dinner Dean eventually asked where Sam had found a nest of hypoallergenic kittens so Sam told him about Rosemary. Dean nodded before going over to the fireplace and picking up two of his carvings of Shadow. "One for each of them." He said when he handed them over to Sam. Sam nodded and put them into his pocket.

The next day at work Sam made sure to give Margery the little wooden cat and then spent the majority of the day gushing about Aradia. She simply listened and nodded all the while giving Sam a small knowing smile.

"You really love him, don't you." Margery said once Sam was silent for more than two seconds, head resting in the palm of her hand while she looked at Sam with a somewhat dreamy look in her eyes. "There's nothing you wouldn't do for him. I just wish there were more people with a relationship like yours. The world would be a better place."

Sam looked at here with shock when she said that. Margery let out a little laugh. "Oh, don't worry, I don't care. All that matters is that you love each other. I get it, though. You moved to a new place and already had enough to worry about without having people call you out for who you love." Sam looked at her for a moment longer before he finally seemed to regain control of his voice. "What? How'd you…?" Margery just winked and said: "No one talks about their brother like that." Before spinning her chair around and wheeling it back to the check-out station.

Sam was absolutely baffled by her words. He ended up just shaking his head a little before going back to putting the returned books back into their rightful place.

As soon as he got off of work he made his way over to Rosemary's house to give her the little wooden cat and tell her about how absolutely precious Aradia is.

oo00oo00oo

Having Aradia around really gave Dean's confidence a boost. More and more often he would offer to go get groceries so Sam wouldn't have to do it. Sam was absolutely thrilled to see Dean regain his self-confidence, especially around other people.

The first time Dean truly surprised Sam was when he told him to invite Margery over for dinner one time. It went extremely well and Dean took an almost immediate liking to her.

The second time he surprised Sam was when he proposed eating out one evening so Sam wouldn't have to cook. There had been a small book fair at the library that day and Sam really didn't feel like cooking. There was a small diner in town which Dean then told Sam he really wanted to try out.

It went really good and while Sam was dreading the food a little, especially after getting used to a home cooked meal every day, the food was actually good. After dinner they both had a giant mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon and caramel loaded up with whipped cream and marshmallows, which apparently was the diner's speciality.

They were signing pretty much the entire time and while they were drinking their hot chocolate Dean admitted that he actually enjoyed having a sort of secret language that the people around them wouldn't understand. They used quite a bit of their own signs as well which just made it that much more special.

When they got back home both were in an extremely good mood. They had been holding hands pretty much the entire walk home and as soon as they were inside Dean started to kiss Sam. The kiss was extremely sweet and tasted like chocolate. It turned from a desperate, sloppy one into a slow, passionate one.

Neither of them knew how they ended up in the bedroom but they didn't care. It had been freezing outside with a slow dusting of snow coming down from the heavens. Both were cold and it was as if the only thing that could chase the cold away was the heat of each other's body.

Pieces of clothing were removed one by one causing more and more skin to slide against each other with every passing moment. Tongues, lips and sometimes even teeth mapped every inch of the other's body. They were so enthralled by the other that there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

It was awkward and even a little embarrassing at times, but afterwards, when they fell asleep wrapped up tight in each other's arms they were filled with emotions of such intensity as they had never felt before. A sense of belonging, of home, safety and happiness. Emotions so simple and yet so strong, ones they had both been denied for most of their lives.

oo00oo00oo

Everything was about as perfect as it could get until one day.

There were a few small tables in the library where people could sit. On every one of them always lay a copy of today's paper. A stack of newspapers would be delivered to the library and then it was Sam's job to pick up yesterday's paper and replace them with today's. Every morning there was an older man who would come into the library to read the paper who was a friend of Margery and would sometimes stay to chat a bit afterwards.

Sam was just about to start putting out the papers when he walked in. "Good morning, Sam." The man said, tipping his hat.

"Morning, George." Sam quickly cut through the pieces of strings holding the papers together and handed the first one to George.

"Thank you, dear boy." He said before walking over to his usual table.

George had to be one of the last true gentlemen left in the world and Sam really liked him. Sometimes, if there wasn't anyone else in the library he'd motion for Sam to come join him at his table and would tell him one of his stories. George had travelled a lot in his youth and he was an amazing storyteller. Time and time again Sam would hang from his every word.

While George started on his paper Sam made the round to collect the old ones and put them in a cardboard box with the ones from the previous days. It was a known fact among the townspeople that Margery sold those boxes for a few dollars a box. Especially in winter she made quite a bit of money from those because then the people liked to light their fireplaces and would need something to start the fire with. After all, not everyone had a forest in their backyard.

While Sam was busy putting out the newspapers George beckoned he come over when he passed by. "Will you look at that. Tragic." He said while pointing to an article. Sam quickly scanned the article and felt cold fear settle in his stomach. Apparently several teens, a few kinds and an adult had been found dead not that far away from here. That in itself wasn't what worried Sam. What worried him was that apparently, a loud, blood curdling wailing had been heard whenever one of the victims was thought to have been killed

Sam immediately recognized the modus operandi of a banshee. "Yeah, absolutely horrible." Sam eventually managed before continuing on. It was strange to stumble upon a case after so long. Ever since they moved to the cottage Sam hadn't really paid much attention to any news and in the rare cases he did he never really looked at them as possible cases.

For the rest of the day Sam was pretty silent and often got lost in thought. During his break he had grabbed one of the papers and carefully read through the entire article. The way it was described there was absolutely no mistaking it for anything but a banshee.

By the time he got home Sam felt pretty restless but tried his best to hide it from Dean. Dean did notice the slightly distant look in his eyes. When he asked Sam just smiled and said he was tired and had a bit of a headache because a bunch of yelling kids had come into the library. Dean wasn't entirely convinced but told himself that Sam was maybe just having a bit of a bad day.

That night he went to bed with Dean but as soon as he was sure Dean was fast asleep he snuck out. Sam grabbed some clothes from the closet and made his way over to his previous room. Since they didn't use that room anymore it had become a bit of a storage room and it was also where they kept all their hunting gear.

Sam dressed quickly and took what he would need to get rid of the banshee. Luckily they still had enough leftovers from that last unfortunate case. He knew it wasn't up to him to take care of her and that some other hunter would eventually show up. It was just that with one so close by Sam worried about Dean. It was an ungrounded fear but still, he felt as if he wouldn't be able to feel at ease until he saw it dissipate before his own eyes.

Soon enough he was downstairs. There Aradia looked up from her spot on top of the table. Sam made a shushing motion even though he knew it wouldn't do anything. Apparently she didn't think a sneaking Sam was worthy of her attention because she yawned, blinked twice and went right back to sleep.

Once Sam drove the Impala out onto the street he felt a rush go through him. He may not have missed hunting but now that he was about to again, it exited him. The place all of the victims had been found was about a twenty minute drive away. It was a blessing to Sam that banshees were pretty stationary creatures. He didn't think he would have been able to sneak out for several days to interview people in an attempt to locate the creature.

From what Sam had gathered from the newspaper and some articles online all the killings had taken place near a pretty big hiking trail. When he finally spotted the sign at the beginning of the trail he parked the Impala and went on his way.

There were several open places along the trail where benches had been placed so people could rest or eat their lunch. It was near the second such open place that the victims had been found so when Sam reached it he immediately stepped out into the woods.

Fifteen minutes and everything had been taken care of and the banshee was never going to bother anyone ever again. As soon as he saw the banshee turn to smoke Sam had felt as if an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

With a relieved hart he walked back towards the Impala and drove back home. As thrilling as it may have been Sam didn't really feel the need to start hunting again. If it would have been any other kind of creature he probably wouldn't even have bothered, would have left it for the other hunters.

After he got back he quickly dumped everything back in his old room and changed back in his pyjamas. He managed to sneak back into bed and right when he thought he was in the clear Dean woke. "Sammy? Where were you, I woke up and you weren't there." Sam just shook his head a little in response and kissed Dean of the forehead before pulling him against his chest. Dean quickly fell back asleep and Sam followed not soon after.

oo00oo00oo

What with doing all the shopping Dean rapidly got more confident around other people and by the time winter was desperately trying to cling on and not let spring take him he declared that he would like to help Sam out more and wanted to look into getting a job as well.

Sam was absolutely delighted because he sort of considered it Dean's last big step. If he wanted to get a job that meant he was pretty confident in who he was again and had accepted that this was going to be their life from now on. No more hunting, just a normal life with the person he loved best in the entire world.

The next time Dean went to get groceries he stopped by the small garage and asked the owner if he could possibly get a job there. The man who owned the garage was thrilled with Dean's offer. He was getting a little older already and while had hoped for one of his sons to take over the garage all four of them had decided to follow quite different paths in life.

The man, whose name was Roger took Dean on for a trial period but ended up hiring him after only a week. He was thoroughly impressed by Dean's abilities and to him that was all that mattered. He didn't care at all that he was deaf, he did beautiful work and knew his way around cars and that was all Roger cared about.

Despite all they had been through to get to this point it all felt more like a beginning than an ending, especially to Dean. This was unknown ground they were treading on. The type of life they thought they would never be able to have, certainly not with each other.

Fate may have finally decided to grant them a smile instead of her usual scowl.


	8. Announcement: Sequel

For those interested, I decided to write a sequel of sorts to this story. It's called 'The Dawn Has Come'.


End file.
